Star System
by thrandelly
Summary: Modern AU! Robert Crawley is a young and stubborn viscount who dreams of becoming a screenwriter. Cora Levinson is a clever aspiring actress with a dark past. What will happen when they meet in the difficult world of the star system? Will it be love or will their ambitions get in the way of their feelings?
1. She's a rainbow

_**Chapter I**_

 _She comes in colors ev'rywhere  
She combs her hair  
She's like a rainbow_

For the umpteenth time, he checked his Rolex, just to be sure he wasn't late. And, _for the umpteenth time_ , the watch eased his mind: no, he was perfectly on time. It was 7 p.m. and his appointment was set to begin ten minutes later… he had ten minutes, ten minutes to enter the offices of the film company, show up at the reception, take the lift up to the fourth floor –or was it the fifth? Well, his father had told him he had to go to the top floor, so there was no way he could be mistaken- and, finally, cross the hall on the right. Then, he would find his destination: the office of Mr. Charles Carson, one of the most important producers and entrepreneurs of the British film industry.

For a moment, Robert Crawley trembled at the thought of standing in front of Mr. Carson.  
 _Nonsense_ , the young man internally snapped, opening the door of the black BMW and getting out of the car; he checked if he had everything he needed with him: his wallet, his coat and his folder. Especially the folder, since it contained the reason he was there in the first place: _the very first draft of his very first screenplay_ , rigorously handwritten. People kept on telling him it was a pretty silly way of writing, since smartphones, tablets and personal computers allowed you to type everything you needed, change it whenever you wanted it and save it in various files… But Robert just liked to feel the words flow through his blood, his fingers, the pen and onto the piece of paper. That was his dream: to write down his stories and to see them transposed on screen.  
He closed the BMW and headed to the Carson Studios.

Mr. Carson had made himself very clear: he could give him fifteen minutes of his time –it wasn't much, but Robert hadn't complained-, then he had to leave to participate at some festival the young man had never heard of.  
Walking towards the building, he felt thrilled, but not… completely. And the reason was simple: he perfectly knew Carson wasn't particularly interested in his screenplay… it was just one of the many ideas he daily examined. No, Carson had given him that appointment just in honor of his friendship with his father, Patrick Crawley. They had been to Cambridge together and when Carson had decided to invest in the cinematic industry, his father had been there to help him financially.  
Robert tapped his fingers nervously on the folder: well, his father had always invested his money any time he had a chance. For example, the main incomes of his family came from an hotel chain he had founded thirty years earlier… but, anyway, being a Count, the Earl of Downton Abbey, he had always been rich. Robert sighed: one day he was going to be an Earl too… he just hoped that wouldn't mean giving up his dreams.

He found himself in front of the sliding door and entered the building.  
It was almost closing time, so the hall was practically deserted, except for a couple of attendants and the girl at the reception. Robert smiled to her, tapping his finger on the counter.  
"Good evening, my name is Robert Crawley", he said politely, "I have an appointment with Mr. Carson". The secretary raised an eyebrow, nodded and started typing something on her computer.  
"Mr. Carson waits for you on the fifth floor", she stated after a few seconds. Robert thanked her and headed to the elevator, whistling an old song by the Rolling Stones.  
That's when it happened. Or, better, when he saw her: the lift's door was open and inside there was a woman… a young woman, probably, since her lilac dress perfectly clung around her slim body. She was petrified, her head lowered down and a folder pressed to her chest, but she was uncontrollably shaking. Robert snorted: the last thing he wanted was to be late because a strange girl had barricaded herself inside the damn lift! Suddenly irritated, he approached her.  
"Sorry, what's the problem?", he snapped, trying not to sound too angry, "Hey, can you hear me? Miss? Whatever is the matter? I have an appointment on the fifth floor and I have no time to lose".  
"I'm not going to make it… I'm never going to make it…", the girl managed to mutter, her voice low and distorted, as if she was trying desperately to breathe.  
"Well, maybe you could make it", he ironically replied, raising his hands polemically, "But if you keep on panicking like this, I am not even sure you're going to survive!". He wanted to get inside the lift. _Right now._

But the young woman kept on trembling; suddenly, she put her hands on her chest and it was clear now that she really couldn't breathe; her mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. Unexpectedly, a realization hit Robert… a terrible realization: he had already seen someone in the same situation before. Same symptoms. Same tremor. Same terrible and infinite sadness.  
She was having a panic attack. He was pretty sure of that, Rosamund, his sister, had always suffered from panic attacks just like that. He went pale and his stomach tightened: he was just the greatest idiot ever. Was that the way you treat a young woman in need of help? God, where had his manners gone? Those manners he had always been so proud of… was his dream so important he could forget to be polite to others? Certainly not.  
"Come with me", he told her, taking her arm gently, but the girl, her head still lowered and her hands still shaking, clearly couldn't move. Robert, anyway, had no intention to give in: he just had to make it right… he had behaved so badly and he was not going to leave her alone now. "Come with me", he repeated politely, "I know what I'm doing".

He guided her in front of a huge window that looked out into a wide open space, filled with roulettes, hangars and vans… those were the real studios, where all the shows and movies were filmed. At a different moment, maybe, Robert would have watched the view, dreaming of his future, but now he couldn't: he opened the window and the cool air of London entered the hall, filling his lungs. The girl was still confused, but when the caress of the wind messed her hair up, the tremble slowly stopped… Robert still hadn't had a chance to look at her face, but he immediately noticed her hair: it was extremely nice, he couldn't help to tell himself. It was dark brown, almost black, and it looked soft to the touch. It smelled sweet, too. Wait… what? That thought… he had no idea where it came from… God! He blushed and felt ashamed: what on earth was he thinking?

"Come on", he encouraged her, smiling shyly and massaging her back gently. He still felt kind of embarrassed, really: he had never been a Casanova and the idea of touching a woman he barely knew was really odd. Odd, but not unpleasant… not at all. He blushed again and cursed his mind for having such ridiculous thoughts. He was just helping a girl, nothing more… why did he always have to make everything so difficult for himself?

Meanwhile, someone had called the lift, that closed its doors and started going up.  
Under his touch, he felt the girl fussing. "You couldn't get into the lift… because of me", she stuttered, and started to shake once again; her folder fell from her hands. For a few moments, Robert feared that all of his attentions had been in vain. The young woman started to cry uncontrollably. "It's all my fault", she kept on saying, as if she had just done something terrible, something that couldn't be fixed. She lay her head on his chest, sobbing; that touch caught him unprepared and he didn't know what to do. What can you do when a young lady suddenly embraces you and you don't even know her? His parents had taught him a lot about manners, but that encounter still felt quite unusual to him. Still, he knew something: he had to make her understand that nothing bad had happened. Because that was the truth… The only thought that she could feel guilty when he was the one who had been extremely rude, was too much for him to bear. He just… he just wanted her to be okay. Was it wrong? No, it wasn't. Just… strange, in a way. He had always hidden his feelings and yet, now they had just exploded and he couldn't control them. They had exploded for a stranger girl. It was absolutely absurd… Yes, but, once again, not wrong.  
"Don't worry about the lift, please", he whispered slowly, trying to calm her down, and kept on massaging her back, "Just try to breathe deeply, miss, and you'll be fine. Please". He surely wasn't convincing, he knew that very well… but what else could he do?

Little by little, the sobs started to fade away, and her breath finally felt steady against the fabric of his shirt. It was probably all wet and covered in make-up, but it was alright. He didn't care about that. He cared about her head leaned on his chest or the feeling of her body so close to his... God, he had never felt so ridiculous in his life… and yet, he couldn't stop to think about her… _that way_.  
And he couldn't stop thinking about how damn stupid he had been. "I'm so sorry for my behavior, I was such an idiot, I…", he stammered, gesticulating. How could he find to words to apologize, when he had been so egoistic and unfeeling? "I couldn't care less about the lift, I mean… Usually, I'm not so hopelessly rude, I swear…".  
The girl didn't reply. Well, it did make sense. What was she supposed to say? That it was alright? That it didn't matter? Of course it did matter.  
"I got angry when you were panicking… I have no words to justify such a reaction. So don't apologize to me about the lift… I should be the one apologizing. Because whenever a gentleman sees a maiden in difficulty, he should behave and help her".  
Why on earth was he talking like a Jane Austen's book? Gentleman? Maiden? Was that the introduction of _Pride and Prejudice_?

Unexpectedly, he felt her lips curving in a smile against the fabric of his shirt and, soon enough, a sweet and delicate laughter came out of her lips.  
Suddenly, she raised her head for the first time and Robert was surprised by a strange and unexpected itch running through his stomach and reaching his temples, that started pulsing. _She was beautiful_.  
But not in a trivial and conventional way, her beauty was… pleasingly different. Unique, that was the right word to describe her. His heart started to race as he took a look at her: he still couldn't guess the color of her eyes, since they were all red because of the tears, but they were so incredibly sweet… a warm feeling pervaded him just by looking at them. Her dark hair was combed in a very simple way, but was very elegant… maybe just because she was smart and dashing, and every kind of hairstyle would look good on her. And then her lips… oh, her lips. They were curved in a shy smile. A smile that made him feel even more guilty about his behavior: how could you ever be rude with someone who has _that smile_?

"Thank you… you made me chuckle", she muttered, a bit clumsily. Now that he was paying attention to it, even her voice was one of a kind: it was low and deep. And her accent… it was unusual.  
"Are you American?", he asked, and immediately cursed himself for the stupid question: you don't usually talk about ethnicity to someone who just had a panic attack. Still, she laughed again, and that sound felt like a caress to his heart.  
"Yes", she admitted, shrugging, "And I have no idea where to go. I had an appointment in this building at seven o'clock, but I got lost and panicked and… I'm… I'm so sorry".  
"Don't be, miss", he just replied, "An appointment, you said?".  
"An audition, actually. I was trying to figure out which floor was the right one, but I couldn't find it… and the girl at the reception probably thought there was no reason to help an American girl".  
An audition? So… was she an actress? Well, she looked like one. One of those actresses of the Forties or the Fifties… strong women with a lot grace. "An audition, you said? Then you're in the wrong part of the Studios", he explained to her. He remembered very well where the auditions had always taken place: sometimes, when he was just a boy, his father had taken him to watch them. "You must go to the third floor".  
She nodded, a bit embarrassed. She probably was a very introverted woman. Robert got down and took her folder, that had previously fallen from her arms, and gave it to her with a gentle smile. Then, without saying a single word, they headed to the lift. They called and it quickly arrived, but when they both entered it, Robert realized he didn't know what to do.

He looked at his Rolex: in three minutes he had to be at his appointment. He passed a hand through his curls, those curls he had tried so hard to comb to look decent in front of Mr. Carson. Then he thought about his suit, a Prada suit his father had bought him for big occasions like that… He looked at the buttons of the lift… he just had to press the number five…  
 _It's none of your business_ , said a voice inside of his head, _It's not your fault if she suffers from panic attacks, nor if she got lost.  
_ It was true. Maybe it really was none of his business. But he could never ignore her situation… and it wasn't only the guilt talking, no… There was some kind of loyalty and justice in his heart that had never abandoned him, and he was not going to change now. And maybe, to be honest, the smile of that stranger young woman had played quite a big role in the decision he was about to make… such a sweet and gracious smile… almost childlike.  
He took a deep breath and pressed the button for the third floor. The doors closed and the lift started going up.

Robert was carefully trying not to make eye contact with her, but still, he could notice an expression of surprise in her features.  
"I'm coming with you", he informed her, before she could ask anything.  
Now, the girl was really astonished, with her pretty mouth and her beautiful eyes wide open. Even if he was quite nervous, Robert found himself almost smiling, thinking about that genuine reaction: just with a few gestures, she had shown him true gratitude. It meant a lot.  
"Please, if it is a problem, feel free to reach your appointment", she murmured.  
Well, it was a problem, in way. Actually, Robert was beginning to realize that he was going to miss the appointment he had been preparing for… he just had to hope Mr. Carson would give him another chance, in the name of the glory days with his father in Cambridge. He hated to be privileged just because of the name of his family, but he saw no other options.

Yes, it was a problem, but there was more inside him –in his stomach that was dancing wildly, in his head full of thoughts and in heart, that was pounding hard. There was a new awareness: he could never leave her alone, not now he had seen her cry in his arms, so fragile and vulnerable; not now he had seen her get back up and smile so tenderly. He was embarrassed by his own thoughts… they were kind of new to him. His mother would always say he was a very sensitive young man, but he wasn't so sure about it.

"No, really, miss, I'm staying with you", he just said, looking right in front of himself. He wanted to hide from her all those emotions that were racing inside his brains.  
"You said you had an appointment…".  
"Nothing important", he stated, shaking his head, "Coming with you is far more important".  
He took his smartphone from his pocket and began to type a message:

 _Mr. Carson, I had a hiccup and I'm afraid I won't be able to make it to our appointment. I hope it is not too much to ask, but could we fix another date? It would mean the world to me._

It did sound a bit desperate… but, in fact, he was a desperate, so there was nothing wrong about it.  
When the doors of the lift opened once again, Robert immediately got out and guided the girl across a small hall he remembered very well. He could perfectly recall the afternoons spent running around the studios, while his father was busy discussing his own business with Mr. Carson.  
"Why are you here, miss?", he asked, interrupting the silence that had fallen between them.  
"I'm an aspiring actress… I'm here for a role in the next Daniel Aldridge movie".  
"Daniel Aldridge, you said? Well, it's quite a big name", he replied, winking. Daniel Aldridge was one the most important directors of the last thirty years in Britain and all of his works had been accepted very positively by the critics. She surely wasn't that bad, if she had the chance to have an audition for his new film.  
"And you… why are you here?", she asked.  
Robert didn't reply. He didn't mean to be rude, of course, but he didn't like to talk about his own aspirations. Whenever he spoke about them, he felt childish and naïve, so he just pretended he hadn't heard her question and kept on walking.

They turned a corner and finally found a door, with a sign with the word "Auditions" written on it. Bingo!  
They got closer and noticed a woman with a very serious expression standing beside the door: she was probably an assistant and in her hands she was holding a bloc-notes… it surely contained the names of the actresses who had been auditioning for the role. Robert decided to step aside and let the girl speak.  
"I'm sorry", she murmured with a shy smile, "I'm here for the auditions, my name is Cora…". Before she could finish, the woman interrupted with a rude gesture. Robert frowned, but inside of his head he couldn't help but repeating her name frenetically, as his whole life depended on it: he couldn't forget it, he couldn't forget it! _Cora, Cora, Cora_ … A short name, that had flown sweetly out of her lips, a name that made him smile, without a reason. Maybe just because it was _her_ name.  
"I think you know you're late. And there's a girl auditioning, now", the assistant groaned, checking her watch multiple times. She clearly couldn't wait to go home. "To be honest, I don't think Mr. Aldridge will have time to…".

"He will find the time", Robert abruptly interrupted her, and found himself surprised by his own initiative. He usually wasn't very forward… but this time, he felt he had to speak up. "The building closes at eight o'clock… there's still plenty of time for Mr. Aldridge to take a look at her performance".  
The assistant frowned and looked at him angrily. "And you are…?", she asked.  
 _I'm the son of Lord Patrick Crawley, if you really must know_ , he thought, but he didn't say it. He didn't want people to know who he was… especially because every time they found out he was the son of an Earl, they suddenly changed. He surely didn't want Cora to change.  
"I'm just someone who thinks that a small delay shouldn't be a reason to deny a young and determined girl the chance of her life", he explained, shrugging. Meanwhile, the girl was quiet and motionless by his side… was she embarrassed by his behavior? He didn't want to speak for her, but he just couldn't prevent it.  
"Very well. Just sit down and wait for your turn", the woman replied coldly.

Robert smiled triumphantly, but his face immediately clouded over when he saw Cora trembling again. Was she nervous? Yes, she probably was. His stomach tightened at the thought of seeing her panic once again. Now he had seen her smile, there was an unknown force inside him that didn't want to lose it. He checked his smartphone… Mr. Carson hadn't replied to his message yet. He was worried, but the look in Cora's eyes made him feel worse. He swallowed: he couldn't leave her alone in that state. Not now his appointment had fallen through. Not now that… that… his face blushing and his stomach dancing wildly finished the sentence for him.  
"Would it help if I stayed here with you?", he asked clumsily, trying to sound determined, "I wouldn't want… I don't want you to panic again".  
Cora looked bewildered. "Really, you don't have to feel obliged…", she started, but he interrupted her.  
"Please… else I'll worry", he admitted, "Just tell if my presence would help".  
For the first time, the girl blushed in front of him. "It'd help me a lot".  
"Well, then it's decided", he exclaimed, in what apparently was quite a funny voice, because Cora started laughing sweetly. He would have done any kind of silly tone to hear that sound again… oh, God, was he having those thoughts… again?

They sat one beside the other on two little stools near the door and they put both their folder on a small plastic table. Robert was trying hard not to stare, but still he kept looking at her, just to understand whether his presence was really helping her. The way she calmly crossed her beautiful legs and naturally put her small hands on her knees filled him with warmth and pride: he felt satisfied… was it because he had made her happy?

"You may stop to call me 'miss'", Cora told him, "I think we're about the same age". No, she was probably younger, Robert was sure of that. Two or three years younger than him. He was pretty good in that kind of thing.  
"Nervous?", he then asked.  
She nodded and her brown curls danced rhythmically with her head. "I am, this would be my very first role. I spent all my life preparing for this moment… Well, actually, it was my mother who spent the last twenty-three years of her life preparing me for this moment".  
When Robert gave her a puzzled look, she kept on explaining. "When she was a young girl, my mother wanted to become an actress. It was her biggest dream. But fate didn't help her: she came from a simple family from Ohio and had no money to travel nor study… Soon enough, after a short 'career' in a little theatre in Cincinnati, she had to abandon her ambitions and began to work as a waitress. That's when she met my father". She paused for a second and Robert, still studying silently her gentle features, noticed that her cheeks had turned to a brighter shade of pink when she was talking about her family. "They got married and, in a few years, my father's construction company took flight. We're actually quite a rich family, but… that wasn't enough for my mother. She still wanted to fulfill her dream. So she decided it should become my dream as well: ever since I can remember, I have attended the most prestigious drama schools and I had to give up every other ambition to try to become a professional actress… and the tension of this goal never really left me. That's why I decided to start my career here in Great Britain and not in the US… I wanted to escape from my mother's claws, really". She stopped, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to bother you with my problems", she murmured, "And I also don't want you to think I don't like acting. I do… a lot. I just… I don't think that is my calling. But I never found the courage to tell my mother and her constant worries surely don't help to deal with the stress".  
A terrible doubt crossed Robert's mind. "Is it because of this whole situation that you suffer from panic attacks?", he asked, astounded.  
Cora shrugged. "Well, I can't be sure… but yeah, it could be because of that".  
Suddenly, Robert felt protective of that girl he barely knew. He frowned, his eyes darkened and, mysteriously, he had a feeling Cora had noticed his mood had changed. It was… strange, really. It was like her blue eyes could see every little thing, every detail, every truth. It was so good to be watched carefully by those two eyes.  
"Did I say something wrong?", she asked softly.  
Robert immediately shook out of his thought… he didn't want her to be worried. "Yes… I mean, of course not", he stuttered, "Just… I know how it feels to be constantly controlled and judged by parents. And I know it is the most unnerving experience".  
Now it was Cora's time to frown, even if he doubted she felt protective over him. Why would she? He was just a stranger. "You don't get along with your parents?".  
"Well, let's just say that I traditionally should inherit my job from my father, but I decided to do something completely different". _For the moment_ , he should have added, but he didn't. A count is a count and cannot escape is fate. One day he was going to be an Earl too.

"And what is it that you decided to do?", she asked, and even though he was kind of expecting a question like that, Robert found himself surprised by it. Why was she interested in him? Why would she care for his dreams? People would normally think they were foolish and that he was going to be a count, an hotel owner and nothing else. But she… she seemed to care.  
"I would like to write or direct movies", he said shyly, and looked in her eyes: they were blue, he was sure about it now. How hadn't he noticed? Anyway, it wasn't their color that attracted him, it was their… expression. There was some sort of light, a certain sweetness in them, something like… damn, he wanted to be a screenwriter but could not even find the words to describe those eyes. He took a look at his folder, that folder that contained his words… words that matter everything to him; it was then that he decided that he would spent the evening trying to find the right, no, the _perfect_ adjective to describe those eyes.

"To be completely honest, I'd like to write _and_ direct movies". Then he remained silent. He was astonished by his own revelations. He usually wouldn't talk about his dreams… of course, he was in the building of the Carson Studios, so it was clear he didn't want to become a lawyer nor a waiter, still, he was always extremely skeptical when it came to open up his heart to others. Maybe because every time he had tried to mention his ambitions to his parents, they had always replied with grunts and threats.  
"Well, a total artist, practically", she commented, and smiled to him, straightening a crease in her lilac dress.  
Robert couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his curly head. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I don't think I can be considered an artist, really".  
Her red lips curved in another lovely smile. "Allow me to disagree", she replied quietly, "Just because you are not famous yet, it doesn't mean you're not an artist".  
He blushed at the subtle compliment, probably because he usually didn't get many… well, it wasn't too surprising, since he never let anyone read his screenplays. "Thank you", he stammered, playing absently with the cover of his smartphone, "But you cannot be sure of that".  
He had been wrong before, he knew that now: Cora absolutely wasn't a shy person. Not that she wanted to impose her own opinions, but with her grace she seemed to be able to convince anyone to change their mind… even a stubborn and shy Englishman who always wanted to be right.

"What's your favorite movie?", she suddenly asked, raising her eyebrows in a funny way.  
Robert laughed. "Are you testing me?", he replied ironically.  
Cora shrugged. "Maybe", she just said, her voice full of sarcasm, "Come on. Tell me".  
Robert was quite amused by the whole situation, so he smirked and decided to make it even funnier. "Well, guess it".  
The young woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "There are billions of movies! How am I even supposed to guess?".  
"You could start by excluding _Sharknado_ or every kind of B-movie like that", he suggested.  
"I have no idea what _Sharknado_ is".  
"It's a movie about a tornado made of… er, it doesn't matter. Come on, try to guess it", he encouraged her once again. He was curious to see what she would say. Very curious, actually… almost excited, like a child who is about to open his birthday presents.  
The girl closed her eyes, as if she was really thinking about it. "Well, well…", she murmured, "I don't think you are one of those guys who go crazy for blockbuster. You know, I could never picture you crying while watching the last _Transformers_ movie".  
"Good, because I couldn't picture myself doing that either", he smirked.  
"Great, then it is surely not a blockbuster…", Cora said, and stared at him, as if she could understand his favorite film just by looking at his face. It felt strange to be examined like that… but as long as it was her who examined him, it was fine. Still, he began to look at his nails, embarrassed as always.  
Meanwhile, Cora had a breakthrough. "I think…", she exclaimed, "You are a sensitive young man, somehow a bit melancholic and sarcastic… I think… you might enjoy some big drama film, with a lot of pathos and tragedies… Something like _The Indian Runner_ by Sean Penn".

Robert decided to abandon the contemplation of his nails and, as soon as he heard the title she had said, he couldn't help being surprised: she was almost right. He passed his fingers through his curls, embarrassed and perplexed: was she really that intuitive or had she just said a random title?  
"Not _The Indian Runner_ , but _Into the Wild_. That is my favorite", he told her, "But you practically got it right".  
"Why _Into the Wild_?", she then asked.  
"I like… well, I know it's quiet trivial, but I like the whole message of the movie and how it evolves: at the beginning, what you desire is some kind of endless and boundless freedom, but in the end…". He stopped, uncertain. The last thing he wanted was to tell her the ending of a film she hadn't seen. "You've watched the movie, haven't you?".  
She laughed. It was good to see her laugh… she looked so strong and beautiful now, and the tears that had come streaming down her face seemed like an old memory. "Yes, I've watched it, don't worry. You're not going to spoil anything", she replied.  
"Well, in the end you realize that nothing makes sense if you don't have someone by your side. Someone you love, I mean. Not even freedom… especially freedom", he concluded, shrugging, "A bit pathetic, probably".  
"Not at all", she said, and she looked as if she was telling the truth. She was always so genuine… Robert felt completely at ease with her. "Now, it's your turn", she abruptly added.  
"Beg your pardon?", he asked, puzzled.  
"My favorite movie", Cora explained, "Guess it".  
"Oh", he replied, chuckling clumsily, "But I'm not as intuitive as you are, I don't stand a chance". That effortless and sweet conversation had almost made him forget his appointment, the opportunity he had thrown away… everything just felt fine. The look in her eyes, the elegant way she moved her hands when she talked, the light that caressed her cheek and her hair… Yes, everything was fine. That strange itch began to torment his stomach once again… but it was a lovely torment.  
"I'll give you one hint", she helped him, "My favorite director is Italian".  
Robert nodded approvingly, but before he could say anything –he wasn't sure, did she look like a girl in love with Fellini's technique or with Bertolucci's themes?-, the door opened and an old man came out; he was probably the co-director or something like that. He looked at the assistant. "Are we finished?", he asked in a particularly annoying voice.  
"There is one more", she just replied and pointed at Cora.  
The co-director made a grimace and started gesticulating vaguely. "Then follow me, miss. Let's just be done with this whole thing".

Robert got up, helped Cora getting back on her feet and took the two folders from the small table. He handed her hers… it was to moment to say goodbye, he knew that… and it felt sad, in many ways. He could… he could ask her number, he could ask her out for a drink, but… no, no, he couldn't. The fact he liked her so much didn't mean she liked him too. She was beautiful and clever, while he was… well, he was himself. The same stubborn curly Englishman.

"Good luck", he murmured, smiling encouragingly.  
"Thank you", she mumbled, "I may need something more than just luck, though. Maybe talent, but I'm not sure I have any…".  
"Well, I would love to have you as the main character of one of my movies", he stuttered, and realized just after finishing the sentence what he had just said. What on earth had come over him? He blushed, lowered his head and was about to look away, but he stopped: even Cora's ears had turned red. Then he wasn't the only one who was embarrassed… he smiled, encouraged by that thought: that awareness raised his spirit and aroused it at the same time.  
"Thank you for staying here with me", she said, looking right into his eyes, "I really… I really think it was a generous act. Other people probably wouldn't have done it… even because I was ridiculous, crying and panicking like that… And you even lost your appointment…".  
"As I told you, it wasn't important", he replied, shrugging, but she probably had understood that he was lying, because her eyes filled with gratitude and sadness, "And believe me, you could never appear ridiculous to my eyes".  
"I owe you a favor".  
"Now you're being ridiculous! Really, I would do it again, it was a pleasure", he mumbled, looking at regular intervals at Cora's blue eyes and his black shoes. Anyway, he surely did know which of the two visions was the most enchanting one. "And most of all, it was a pleasure to meet you".  
She blushed, shook his hand and breathed deeply; then she turned around and disappeared with the co-director behind the door. Robert sighed… maybe he could wait for her there and ask her how the audition had gone… no, he couldn't. They barely knew each other, he didn't want to frighten her with his persistence. Those two syllables kept on ringing inside his head: Co-ra, Co-ra, _Co-ra_ …  
He turned around, sighing once again, and headed to the lift. He took a look at his smartphone and, swallowing hard, he found a message from Mr. Carson. He opened it:

 _Alright, son. I can see you in two weeks, on the 16_ _th_ _of September. I will have fifteen minutes to give you, from 17 to 17:15. I don't usually like hiccups, but you're just like you father, and I know I can trust a Crawley._

The lift arrived and its doors opened, and Robert got in, pressing the button that would take him to the ground floor. It was pretty clear to him that Mr. Carson couldn't care less about his screenplay… he was doing that whole thing as a favor to his father. Nothing more.  
He thought about Cora, about the words she had told him. She had believed in him, even if they had never met before. He got out of the building and the wet breeze of London messed his hair… he felt lucky, in a way: he had lost a chance, yes, but Mr. Carson had given him another one… but, most of all, he had been given the greatest chance of his life: he had gotten to know Cora's smile.  
Losing himself in that sweet memory, he started whistling that Rolling Stones' song again… _She's a rainbow_. Yes, she was a like a rainbow, filled with colors and beauty. But she was a rainbow he had lost forever.  
As he headed towards his car, these thoughts in his head, he felt blue… but just because he still had no idea that fate was planning quite a big surprise for him.

 **Hello everyone! I'm back with a new project, my very first AU… and I hope it will work out fine. I already have the whole story in my head… I just need to write it down, so I can share a bit of fluff, angst and good ol' hurt & comfort with you all. Please, do leave a review, not only because it may encourage me to write more, but also because English in not my first language and I do want to know if anything's not clear.  
So thank you for taking a look at this first chapter! I'm not sure when I'll post the second (I'm on holiday at the moment), but I hope soon enough.  
Love,  
Thrandelly**


	2. Secret Garden

**Here we are with chapter 2! I'll try to post as much as I can now since I'll be in Dublin for a week in august and I don't know if I'll have a chance to write. Anyway, thanks to all those who took the time to read and review! It really does help. I hope you'll enjoy this new episode… this time, from Cora's point of view… Let me know!**

 _ **Chapter II**_

 _She's got a secret garden  
Where everything you want  
Where everything you need  
Will always stay  
A million miles away_

She had just pronounced the last word of the monologue and now she was standing still in the middle of the little stage, waiting for the verdict. Her little hands were sweating, her chest was slowly going up and down, following the rhythm of her breath. Inside her, anyway, a storm of emotions was raging wildly and the memory of two kind blue eyes were the only reason she hadn't panicked yet. The eyes of a stranger. The eyes of the man who had helped her. Her savior.  
"Very well, miss Levinson", mumbled the co-director, looking at her with his giant glassy eyes. God, he was so unnerving! He had been chewing his pen the whole damn time. "Could we see your CV, now?".

Blinded by the spotlights, Cora nodded and got down the stage, taking a quick look at Daniel Aldridge's long face: he always looked angry. Always. He was a man in his fifties, almost bald, his brows constantly furrowed in a serious expression. But it was his eyes that had caught her attention: two little pieces of glass, almost off-white.  
She approached the little stool where she had left her purse and her folder, and she managed to breathe deeply for a few seconds. It was done. She'd made it, in the end. To be honest, she wasn't too satisfied: she hadn't performed the monologue the way she wanted to. It seemed to her that, generally, she could no longer act she way she had used to. Once, everything had seemed to be at her reach: no role could scare her. But then, things had changed. People had betrayed her. And she had had to run away.  
She shook her head, trying to remove those thoughts from her mind. It was her past. It was gone. Now, she had to focus on her present.

Cora sighed and went to open her folder, but her hand stopped in midair: there undoubtedly was something wrong with her folder. First of all, her folder had never been so old, nor ruined: she had just bought it a week earlier. And second, why did it look so full and heavy? She had just put some papers and documents in it.  
And then, a doubt hit her like a cannonball.  
Someone else she had met that day had a folder. A transparent folder, just like hers. Someone curly with a shy smile on his lips. Oh, God, no, did they…  
Before she could give shape to her fear, she opened her folder and her doubt became reality: the little container was filled with handwritten papers… a screenplay, apparently. The screenplay her savior had written.  
It was all clear now: they had swapped their folders.

But… when? Cora tried to remember: maybe when they had had the conversation. Yes, when they had started talking about movies and they had laughed. When they had gotten up and recovered the folder for the small table, he had probably handed her the wrong one and she hadn't noticed, since she was too busy looking at him. Damn!  
What had she done? She wasn't worried about her CV or her stupid papers… she was worried about him. Her savior. That shy, smiling and sensitive man. Now, he had lost his screenplay… just because of her. What… what if that was the only copy he had? What if she had just destroyed his future? It was her fault, her fault, her fault!

All of a sudden, her body began to shake.  
First, slowly. Then, violently.  
Her hands grasped the stool. She started to breathe quickly, then it felt like there was no air.  
No air in her lungs.  
No air in the room.  
No air in the whole world.  
She was falling. Falling. Falling…  
No, no, no! Her eyes almost filled with tears, as Cora tried hard to stand up: she couldn't panic. Not now. Not in front of Mr. Aldridge. And, most of all, not after her savior had spent a whole hour with her, trying to cheer her up. Once again, she thought about his ash-blond curls, and the way his big hands had massaged her back… The tears began to dry. Her body stopped trembling. Her breath steadied. She had to be strong.

The two men had been talking the whole time, so they hadn't noticed her shaking. Better, much better. She didn't want to look weak to their eyes. She breathed deeply and approached the table where they were sitting.  
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Aldridge, I'm afraid I forgot my CV at home. Maybe I could sent it to your office by email", she muttered, trying to look as relaxed as she could. Her unsteady breath, anyway, probably gave her away: she felt terrible. How was she going to return the folder to her savior? How was she going to… No, she couldn't think about that now. It wasn't the right moment. She straightened her back and look at Mr. Aldridge right in the eyes.  
The man's face remained serious, but his voice softened a bit. "No, don't worry, miss Levinson. It's just Stowell who's a bloody bureaucrat", he said, looking at the co-director, "We have all the papers we need. We'll let you know as soon as possible".  
Cora smiled gracefully, took her things and got out of the room. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it clearly inside her temples. She waved her hand at the assistant, trying to be kind, but she just grunted. Her manners hadn't improved during her audition, apparently.  
Finally, Cora called the lift, went to the ground floor and got out of the building. The cool wind of the evening caressed her, as the fading light of the sun painted the grey skyscrapers and the houses of London of a pale shade of red and orange. For a few seconds, her worries just faded away.

She was still admiring the skyline when she suddenly noticed a car she knew very well. An old green Mini, with a huge scratch on the hood… She couldn't believe it… It undoubtedly was Anna's car… but why was Anna there?  
Anna Smith was her flat mate. She was a gracious young girl who was studying to become a nurse and they shared a little apartment in Camden. She was a joyous person, who liked music, art and books. Cora had immediately gotten along with her: even if she had left America with her heart heavy with disillusion and disappointment, Anna's politeness had immediately soothed her soul. She had never asked her anything indiscrete about her past, nor she had never behaved badly. She had always been there for her… which meant a lot, to Cora. Especially in those hard times.  
At the moment, anyway, she just couldn't understand why she was there with her car.  
"Anna!", she called, her face filled with surprise, and waved her hand; almost immediately, Anna noticed the flat mate, opened the window of the small car and yelled something Cora didn't understand. The girl approached the old Mini and placed her hands on its door. "Anna, what are you doing here?", she asked.  
Anna just smiled. "I came to pick you up, of course".  
"You shouldn't have bothered", Cora said, making a face and feeling a bit guilty. Anna was always so kind to her… Not that Cora was rude, of course. But the attention Anna gave her felt so spontaneous, so genuine.  
"No problem, I was nearby", she explained, "I was at the hospital to see my grandmother and brought her a plant, so I surely couldn't take the subway, nor could I get on a bus". She shrugged. "Then I remembered the Studios were just a couple blocks away and I decided to pick you up".  
"Really, you shouldn't have bothered…", Cora repeated, but she couldn't quite hide her gratitude: she surely wasn't looking forward to take the subway. "How long have you been waiting?".  
"Come on, girl! Stop apologizing and get inside of the car!", the flat mate laughed and started the engine. With a smile, Cora surrendered and entered the Mini. It was impossible to argue with someone who had such a bright laughter.

"So, how did it go?", Anna asked, as the car began to move. Cora watched the London traffic slowly surrounding them. She sighed: in a few minutes they would be stuck. She was sure of that. "I don't think I did very well, really", she admitted, frowning, "But Aldridge is always so serious that I can't possibly have any idea of what he thought of me".  
"Be positive", Anna encouraged her.  
"Oh, but I am", she replied, "I have learned to take care of myself in the world of acting. Nothing can bring me down, now that my mother's constant criticism has remained in the States with her. You have no idea how she'd treat me after every audition: I was always too insecure, too loud, too ungraceful, and so on". It was partially true. Well, her mother really was impossible, but Cora wasn't as positive as she usually told everyone. She once had been positive… Yes, before that thing, that terrible thing she never talked about… she had been a different person. Now, her walls were up. And all of her worries had begun to haunt her like ghosts from her past.  
"You know, you'll have to tell me the truth one day", Anna replied, braking all of a sudden when a small car came out of nowhere and passed them.  
"I don't know what you're talking about", Cora said, clearing her throat.  
"I know that isn't the only reason you came to London", the flat mate explained calmly, "But no rush. You'll tell me when and if you're ready. Now, I really want to know more about the audition. I want to know if my flat mate is going to be famous".  
"Really, there isn't much to say. I performed the monologue and that was it" , Cora said, shrugging, "Anyway… something else happened, before the audition".  
Anna raised both her eyebrows, curious and puzzled. A silent way to tell her she wanted to hear the whole story.

"Practically", Cora began, with a soft smile, "I got lost inside the building".  
"God, I was hoping for a funnier story", Anna exclaimed, chuckling, "And how did you manage to get to the audition?".  
"You were hoping for a funnier story and yet you can't help asking me questions", Cora replied, with a grimace. Anna nodded, admitting her friend was quite right, then Cora went on. "I had written the right floor on a piece of paper, but I lost it and the girl at the reception decided she wasn't going to help an American girl".  
Anna's mouth automatically opened. "You're not being serious".  
"I am. She refused to tell me where the auditions were".  
The flat mate shook her blonde head various times, clearly angry. It was rare to see her angry, but it always like that when injustice interfered. She happened to be a fair person by nature and injustice just made her mad. "I can't believe there are such stupid and rude people in the world".  
"Anyway, I started wandering and running around the building, but I just couldn't find the auditions… until, at a certain point, I… well, I panicked". She bit her lower lip, waiting for Anna's response to her revelation.  
"What do you mean you panicked?", she just asked.  
"I mean I… had a panic attack", Cora muttered, trying to smile at her flat mate. But Anna looked worried, now. Cora hadn't told her of the panic attacks and, for the moment, she had managed to hide them from her quite well during the month they had been living together. Anyway, she was aware that the truth was going to come out, one day. And that was probably that day.  
"Cora…", Anna just said.  
"I know, that's not like me", she murmured, shaking her head.  
The flat mate frowned. "It's not that. You should have called me".  
Cora sighed. "I actually thought about that, but then I changed my mind".  
Anna looked puzzled. "May I ask you why?".

The young American girl prepared herself for her story, clearing her throat. God, she did want to talk about it so much! She wanted to let out every detail about that strange encounter she kept thinking about: she craved to go on and on about the smile of her stranger savior, and his soft voice, and his funny laughter, and his blue eyes, and his curls... Why was she feeling like that?  
"While I was panicking, a young man arrived. A young, robust and tall Englishman, with a black suit and a shy smile on his lips. At the beginning, he hadn't realized I wasn't feeling well, so he was being a bit rude… But as soon as he understood I was having a panic attack, he gently guided me to a window and helped me feel better". She stopped for a few seconds, daydreaming of those moments. How pleasant his voice had been when he had politely told her to breathe deeply. "Then, he accompanied me to the auditions, since he knew where they were, perfectly knowing he was going to miss the appointment he was there for".  
"Are you kidding me?", Anna squealed.  
"No, I'm not", Cora chuckled, "And he waited my turn with me, because he was afraid I was going to panic again. He just… wanted me to be okay, and so he stayed by my side. He couldn't stop apologizing for his initial behavior… he was funny, in a way. He gesticulated, stammered and blushed, but I could tell he truly cared… We sat and started talking… And he really saved me, today. I can't stop thinking of him as my savior, really".  
"A true gentleman", Anna exclaimed, winking.  
Cora chuckled. "Yes. A bit clumsy, perhaps, but he definitely was a gentleman".  
"You see, a gentleman doesn't have to be a model or something like that. It's all about chivalry and kindness".  
To be honest, that young stranger hadn't been so clumsy. In fact, there was something quite interesting in the way he moved, in his voice, in his expressions… He was elegant and graceful. Almost distinguished.

"And was he good-looking, this gentleman you keep talking about?", Anna smirked with malice.  
Cora rolled her eyes, but she didn't feel embarrassed. She just remained silent for a few seconds, thinking back of those two big blue eyes that had looked at her with kindness and apprehension… those eyes that had made her smile and blush. It had felt strange to her, because she had rarely blushed before. Still, just one hour with him had been enough to make her feel like a teenage girl in front of her first crush.  
She just sneered. "My lips are sealed", she said, shrugging.  
But Anna wasn't going to give in so easily. "Your lips may be sealed, but your pink cheeks speak for you", she exclaimed, her tongue sticking out, "Come on, I'm so curious! Just tell me a bit more about him!".  
"I don't know… I'd never felt like that before. But with him… well, I felt embarrassed and peaceful at the same time, a bit like Woody Allen and Diane Keaton in _Play it again, Sam!_ ".  
Anna couldn't help but laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but from your words I can guess you like this handsome stranger very, very much".  
"You should watch it, it's a great movie".  
"Don't you try to change topic, now", she threatened her ironically.  
"Alright, alright, you win. I did like him… a lot. I liked his manners and his kindness… And yes, he was my type", Cora admitted, "The problem is, I think I may have just destroyed his future as a screenwriter", she then added, curving her red lips in a preoccupied expression.  
Anna furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?", she asked, "What are you talking about?".  
The girl sighed and pressed the folder close to her chest. It smelled like him, she noticed. A fragrance of aftershave and whiskey. A strong perfume that had captured her attention from the very first moment… she couldn't help but smile as she began to explain the situation to her flat mate. "Apparently, we swapped our folders. He took mine, with all the documents and the papers… and I took his… which contains a screenplay. A screenplay he wrote".  
Immediately, Anna's face lightened once again. "Oh, come on, then stop worrying so much! He surely has other copies of it".  
Cora shook her head in response. "Well, I don't know", she mumbled, "It's handwritten".  
The blonde girl nodded and remained silent for a few seconds, as if she was thinking about a possible solution. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you can return it to him. What's his name? We'll look for him on Facebook".  
For the umpteenth time on that day, Cora almost blushed. She was quite ashamed of what she was about to say. "Er… I have no idea. I didn't ask him… and there's no name on the folder".  
Anna moved her blue eyes from the road to look right at her, her mouth opened in shock. "You met a gentle and handsome stranger you like and you don't even ask him his name?".  
"We started talking… I… I guess it all felt so natural it didn't occur to me to…", finally, she gave up, "Well, yes, I didn't… I don't know why". It was true, she didn't know why she hadn't asked him his name. She didn't grant her trust to everyone, but she usually still managed to be quite extroverted… it had just been… different, with him. It had been like they had always known each other… so there was no reason to discover his name. How silly she had been!  
"Then let's just hope he has other copies of this thing, then", Anna laughed. She was trying to joke and lift her spirit, but it wasn't so easy this time: she felt guilty. What if that screenplay meant a lot to him? What if she really had just destroyed his future?

"And what did you put in your folder?", Anna suddenly asked, turning around a corner Cora recognized. They weren't too far from home. "I mean, has he stolen anything important from you?".  
Cora's cheeks turned pink. "He didn't steal the folder! It was an accident!", she stuttered, in a high pitch voice she had never heard come out of her mouth before.  
For the umpteenth time, Anna laughed out loud: she was having the greatest fun. Cora couldn't blame her. "You have no idea who he is and you already take his defense! How sweet! Then love really is in the air!".  
"Stop it!", she squealed... She was making a fool of herself. And all because of a man she barely knew. Well done, Cora, truly. "Anyway…", she began, coughing for the embarrassment, "He… I mean, there were some papers, my CV, some documents… this kind of things".  
Anna removed her left hand from the wheel and snapped her fingers, as if she had had an idea. "Wait… this means that he does know your name!", she exclaimed, excited, "I mean, if he has your CV, he can basically know all your life".  
Yes… that was true. Damn, she hadn't thought about it! She had been tormenting herself trying to understand what she could do to reach her savior again, yet all she had to do was hoping he would get in touch with her.  
But was he going to? She had been so ridiculous in front of him…  
The words he told her suddenly sounded in her head, like a sweet melody: _believe me, you could never appear ridiculous to my eyes_ … that's what he had said.  
Maybe there was a chance he'd contact her, after all.

Her mind was still childishly playing with that hope when Anna parked the car in the garage of their apartment building. They got out of the old Mini and took the lift that brought them to the last floor, the floor where their flat was. They entered the small house and immediately Anna went to the kitchen.  
"I'm going to cook some dinner", she yelled to Cora, who was still in the living room, "Or maybe we could order a pizza?".  
Cora thought about it for a few seconds. "I'll go for the pizza".  
Anna laughed. "Yes, so will I".

While her friend was calling the restaurant, Cora decided to go and change. She crossed a short hall, entered her bedroom and slowly closed the door. Then, she pressed her back against the wall and took a look at the room in front of her: a small bed with violet covers, a huge window that looked out into an incredibly small and messy yard and the walls filled with posters of all her favorite bands and singers… Mumford & Sons, Ed Sheeran, Arctic Monkeys… It was almost like home. Yeah. _Almost_.  
The room _almost_ looked the same as the one she had in her house in America… but that was before the terrible thing. Before she had to leave everything behind.  
 _Leaving everything behind_. The lies, the pain, the anger. Yes, but also her family, her friends and all of those memories of who she once had been, her roots and her identity. Leaving _everything_ behind: it had a bittersweet taste, a taste of freedom and melancholy.

She thought once again about the words the young man had used to describe _Into the Wild_ : without a loved one, nothing makes sense. And there, in London, she didn't know anyone.  
Of course, Anna was a great flat-mate, always supportive and kind, and they were starting to build a strong friendship, but she had learned to be careful when it came to trust people and so, for the moment, she felt lost and a bit lonely.  
Not that she gave it too much weight and she surely wouldn't show her uncertainty: she knew the importance of keeping her head up and be strong. And yet, for the very first time since her arrival in London, she wanted someone to hug, to talk to and to let herself go with.  
She couldn't quite understand the reason why, and maybe there wasn't a real reason, but she kept on thinking about that young curly gentleman that had helped her.  
Did she want to hug him? Did she want to talk to him? Did she want to let herself go with him? In a way, she did. It was absurd, but… he was different from everyone else she'd ever met. Better, maybe. Yes, she'd spent only one hour with him, and yet she was sure he was better.

She felt silly, her cheeks turning pink: she thought herself so strong, and still she had cried, snuggling up against his chest. The chest of a perfect stranger who could have told her off without any problem. But after the initial discourtesy, he had never stopped apologizing. He'd been so sweet, even if he had tried to hide kindness as something trivial, something anyone would have done.

She had seen guilt in his beautiful blue eyes. Looking at the mirror of her room now, she could see the same expression on her face: she had to return the folder to him. But she didn't know how to. It was all in his hands. Was he going to look for her? Was he going to get in touch with her?  
Cora couldn't know, of course. But she was really hoping he would do that. And not just because of the folder, but, most of all, because, inside of her heart, she really did want to see those eyes again.  
 _The eyes of a stranger. The eyes of the man who had helped her. Her savior._


	3. Could you be the one?

_**Chapter III**_

 _There is no room for streams of tears  
The sun is shining down, the clouds have cleared  
Could you be the one for me?_

John Bates was looking at his best friend's desperation with an amused grin on his face: Robert was always the same, he would always see every little difficulty as an insurmountable tragedy.  
"I really don't see the problem", he just muttered, shrugging.  
Robert, however, was practically panicking. He kept on walking around the room aimlessly, his fists clenched, his cheeks pink, his brows furrowed. He looked angry, angry and desperate.  
"How?", he just exclaimed, as he kept on strolling around the room, "How can you not see the problem? We swapped our folders. I have hers, and she has mine… it's a complete tragedy!".  
John intertwined the fingers of his hands and placed them behind his head, with a sarcastic look on his face. "You should check the meaning of the word tragedy on the vocabulary just one more time, because I'm not sure you have it clear".  
"I know what tragedy means", Robert pouted, "And believe me, this is a tragedy… I don't see a way out of it, really".  
"You said you know her name", John stated calmly.  
"Yes… her name. Just her name. But not her surname. I didn't ask, I didn't want to sound like a stalker or something like that".

When Robert had called him, asking to go to his house, saying it was urgent, John wasn't quite expecting… something like that. John had come at once, leaving his very small flat in a hurry and when he'd sat down in his friend's little office and started to listen to his story, he had found himself really surprised: so Robert had found a pretty American actress –Cora, her name was Cora- and had made quite an impression on her… what was the problem? Who cared if they had swapped folders? Who cared if he didn't have his screenplay anymore? It was a very good excuse to get in touch with this Cora again… which didn't seem too bad, since Robert really couldn't stop talking about her, her hair, her voice, her smile, her skin… John had never seen him act like that, not for any other woman… and he'd known him for many years.

Yes, they had known each other for many years, Robert and him… they had become friends in Cambridge. John had had the chance to be there thanks to a fellowship and basically had spent the whole time in collage playing football… he had always been very good at it. He had been a center-midfield of great talent and everybody at the time had thought he could easily become a professional player… that was before a terrible knee injure he'd suffered in a car crash: he was driving quietly on a Saturday night, coming home after a night at the movies, when a drunk man with a huge jeep had tried to pass him and then hit his car… very hard. So, the injure had come… the injure that had destroyed his career completely and left him bloody lame. Because yes, now he was crippled. That was the hard truth.  
It was in the college football team that he'd met Robert, who played as striker; they had become team mates, acquaintances, friends and then best friends. Robert had always been there for him after the accident, cheering him up, consoling him and, sometimes, trying to find him a new job, now that he'd lost his life's dream.  
In those hard times, their bound had become stronger than ever, but John had never accepted Robert's attempts to help him financially. It wasn't his fault if he couldn't walk properly, now. He wasn't obliged to do something about it.

Depression had come, along with many other problems, such as alcoholism, and John had left college. He had moved to London and had been in search of a job ever since… without any good outcome.

It had been such good news when his old pal had told him he was going to move to London. He had finished college, of course… and with very good results. Business was the main reason of his move, he'd said, but John knew better than that: yes, the cause his family was sending him to the capital, releasing him from their snob and noble claws, was to manage one of the many hotels the Crawley owned, in order to instruct the heir on his future duties as Earl… but Robert was clearly taking advantage of the situation to try to write as much as he could and see if he could really become a professional screenwriter.  
Because yes, Robert was rather good when it came to the administration of the hotels and everything, he was very diligent and would go to work every single day, never neglecting his duties, but his dreams… he was not going to give up on them so easily. He was too stubborn to just forget about them. And of that, John was pleased: it was one of the aspects of his friend's character he loved the most.

Still, there were many, many aspects of Robert's behavior he didn't appreciate that much.  
Actually, his mate could be quite irritating sometimes. And that, that was one of those times: he was complaining and playing the victim without a real reason. Of course, John could understand his worries for his screenplay –Robert had never allowed him to read it, but he knew it was handwritten and so there was just a copy of it-, but he was sure there was a way to retrieve it. He'd never been one to despair too much… Not after all that had happened to him.  
As Robert went on and on about all his insurmountable problems, John took the famous folder, the folder that belonged to Cora and curiously took a look inside. What he saw made him squeal.

"Look", he shouted, gesturing and pointing at the papers, "It's her CV! Here, inside the folder! Robert… her CV! Do you understand? You can find her surname here and add her on Facebook!"  
Robert immediately turned around, his eyes wide open. "I… No, I absolutely cannot read her CV, I… I would be violating her privacy", he shouted, and took the folder from John's hands.  
"Man, what the hell are young talking about?", said the black haired young man, with a laughter, "It's a bloody CV. It's made to be read. That is its main purpose, you know".  
After a few seconds of silence, Robert couldn't help but chuckle, lowering his head. He knew John was right and yet… yet it was clear that he hadn't changed his mind. "No, I'm sorry, I just cannot, I would feel as if I was sneaking into her private life", he murmured and started fiddling with one of the corners of the folder.

But John was not going to give up so easily: he stood up, facing his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, as if he wanted to shake him from whatever it was that was keeping him from doing the right –and also more reasonable- thing. "You just need to know her surname! It's not like you're going to read every page of this damned thing!", he explained.  
The young viscount shook his head vigorously and a tuft of curly hair covered his forehead. "No, I need to find another way to retrieve my screenplay".

With a deep sigh, John went back on his chair and looked at his friend. This was one of those times when his _being a gentleman_ was quite unnerving. Why was he behaving like that?  
John grinned before speaking again. "You could even stop pretending it's all about the screenplay, you know, because, honestly, you're one of the worst liars of the world".  
He had dropped a bomb, he was well aware of that: Robert just couldn't stand being called a liar. Now, he just had to wait for it to explode.  
It didn't take long: immediately, Robert's big blue eyes darkened. "I'm not lying, John", he stated firmly. He was looking even more injured by his words than he'd expected. John sighed: he needed all the patience he could gather, because this conversation was quickly turning into a very difficult one. Why did Robert have to be so serious about everything? Why couldn't he just laugh and stop being so stubborn, just for once?  
"Oh, come on", said John, and his typical grin appeared on his pale lips, "Of course you care about the screenplay, but we both know it's not about that. It's this girl. This Cora. You like her –a lot, I'd say- and, still, for some reason, you don't want to meet her again. I guess it's because you really, really like her. Because it was different from the other times. Different and better… and so you feel embarrassed. Maybe you think you could never be enough for her, something like that. Maybe you think it could never work or that it could be a disappointment… but that's not a good reason to give up on this American girl who struck you so much".

He paused for a few seconds, standing still and watching what effect his words would have on his friend: Robert, on his part, said nothing, but his eyes, now filled with sadness, clearly agreed with John. So Robert, at least deep inside, did want to get in touch with his mysterious American girl once again… he was just too frightened to try. John stretched his back, frowning: he had to make him understand what was the right thing to do. It had always been like that, between Robert an him: they had always been the _odd couple_ , just like Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau in that old movie… they were odd, yes, but they worked. They would always be there, helping each other any way they could. Robert had been by John's side when he'd had the knee injure… Now it was John's turn to give his best friend a hand. "Listen Rob, how long have we known each other?", he asked, with a gentle smile, thinking back of all the adventures they had had together in college, from the nights when they were drunk as hell to all the crazy sessions of hard study.  
Robert snorted. "Quite a while, unfortunately for me".  
John chuckled heartily. "Yes, and I already had the chance to watch you in a relationship. Unfortunately for me, since all of your relationships were quite ridiculous". He stopped for a second, just to admire the fun look of pure indignation on Robert's face; before the young viscount could say anything, John went on, smirking. "To be honest, my friend, I've never seen you so frantically interested in someone before".  
"I… I… I am not _frantically interested_!", Robert squealed, stumbling on every single word coming out of his mouth, his face all red with anger and, probably, embarrassment, "And, and… and even if I was, it… it'd only be for the screenplay".

Once again, John giggled, and shook his head. "It's a good thing, you know, liking someone. And feeling confused, and thrilled, and puzzled, and happy because all you can do is thinking about this special person", he explained to Robert, remembering how he once had felt for his first serious girlfriend, Vera. They had ended up in the worst way possible, but Robert… Robert did have a chance, perhaps. What if this Cora was his special person? "You shouldn't be ashamed of what you feel, you know. You should enjoy every minute of it".

Finally, Robert gave up. He fell heavily on the chair beside the writing desk, sighing and shrugging. He looked so melancholic, his blue eyes lost in some memory. The memory of Cora, probably. "It's just… it's so silly. I do… I do think about her. All the time… or most of the time, at least. I wake up in the morning and her memory is already present in my mind, and it never leaves until I fall asleep at night. I see the trailer of a new film and think that maybe she would like it. I hear an American speaking on the television and I'm reminded of her sweet voice. The other day, a Sergio Leone movie was on Sky and I couldn't help but fiddle with the thought that maybe, maybe it was him who was her favorite director, the one I was about to guess… Now… It's always like this… But, as I said, it's silly…I don't even know her, John". His voice was low, sweet, almost distant… as if he wasn't talking to John, but to himself.  
John couldn't help but smile, seeing that side of his best friend for the first time. "And yet she told you about her life, as if you knew her very well", he said.  
Robert chuckled, shaking his head. "No, man, she was just being polite, starting the conversation and everything", he stammered, "It was… all about manners".  
"Robert", said John, slowly, trying to make some sense out of his friend's silly paranoias, "She chose to tell you about her mother and her panic attacks. She wasn't just _being polite_ , as you said. She was opening her heart to you… Because maybe she liked you as well".  
This time, Robert didn't just chuckle, he laughed out loud… but it was quite a sad and ironic laugh. "That's a good one, John… really, a good one!".  
The young man rolled his eyes: Robert could be quite full of himself, sometimes, and yet he did like to play the victim from time to time. Such a drama queen, he was. John smiled at that thought and went on talking. "And maybe she's looking for you, because she wants to retrieve the folder and meet her beautiful savior once again".  
When John spoke the word _beautiful_ , Robert blushed, moved nervously on the chair and frowned. "Oh, just shut up", he pouted, snorting.  
"Come on, Rob, how can you be so damn sure she's not looking for you?", John exclaimed. He meant it. He wasn't just trying to be nice to Robert, he really believed he needed to see this Cora again. In a way, he felt he had to play the part of Cupid, and his heart and his mind immediately accepted the mission simultaneously. He liked the idea of helping people… and loved the idea of helping his best pal. "Read this damned CV. Just do it. Meet her again", he concluded, with his classic grin and an encouraging light in his eyes.

Surprisingly enough, Robert smiled. He just smiled, heartily, curving his lips almost shyly, but with decision. Had he changed his mind, in the end? John clenched his fist: he hoped he had, he really hoped he had… but it was never that easy with Robert.  
And John's fear was confirmed when Robert shrugged, sighing, and his features turned again into shadows of doubt. "I just… I just feel it was perfect that way", murmured the young viscount, "We met, we had the most lovely conversation and we parted smiling. It was amazing. Why spoil that? It's a memory I'll always cherish… But maybe it just needs to stay a memory. Come on, let's face it… Probably, she would never date someone like me. I'm not…", he paused, as if it was hard for him to go on, "As you said, I think I'm not enough for her".  
"But do try, for God's sake!", John exclaimed, finally exasperated and began to make the most ridiculous gestures with his hands. Damn it, he just couldn't stand Robert, sometimes: he knew he had always been quite shy with women, but it was different this time. Even he had noticed: this Cora had left a mark on his best friend, somehow. It was clear in the way Robert's voice softened when he spoke about her, in the way he chuckled every time he remember their conversation, in the shade of pink that kept on appearing on his cheeks when thought about holding her when she was crying. John had never been keen on believing in such things as love at first sight, but now… he wasn't so sure. Because he knew Robert well: his chap had always had some troubles dealing with his feelings and emotions… and it was his family's fault, mainly. Robert was a very sensitive man, too sensitive, to be honest: he would cry when hurt, he would scream when angry, he would laugh and dance when happy. He was one of these people who just need to show how they feel, sometimes even exaggerating. In a word, he was oversensitive.  
Or, at least, he should have been an oversensitive person… but he had never been allowed to be who he really was.  
That was because his family, an ancient and noble English family, had always tried to repress this aspect of his character at all costs. They had taught him to show no emotion. And Robert had really tried to do it, but the result hadn't been perfect… not at all: now, he was stuck in a limbo, a limbo where all his stormy and turbulent feelings were still all present, but he bottled them up and pretended they just didn't exist.

John felt sorry for him, in a way: Robert had constantly to hide who he really was. And he had never complained about it, he had always believed it was the right thing to do. He thought he was in the wrong, feeling so much. A viscount shouldn't "feel", that's what they had taught him ever since he was just a boy. A viscount should only rely on logic, common sense and strength. No wonder Robert felt sorry and guilty for being himself… and that made John infinitely sad.  
He paused for a second, sighing, then kept on talking. Calmly, this time: he wanted Robert to understand that he was trying to help him. "You're right, maybe it's never going to work between the two of you, but how on earth are you supposed to know if you don't even try to meet her again? She thanked you, she blushed, she cried on your shoulder…".

Silence fell between them. It wasn't a peaceful silence, it was quite heavy, really… they were both sitting, Robert staring at his feet and John glancing at his best friend's face, in search of some sign of what was going on in that ash blonde curly head. Because yes, Robert's mind was clearly working, working hard and trying to make a decision. Should he believe to his friend and look for the girl once again, or should he just give up on the whole thing, losing both his mysterious Cora and his screenplay?  
Suddenly, Robert stood up and threw the folder on his desk with a deep sigh. It was certain now: he was giving up.  
"You know what?", he murmured, with a slightly disappointed voice, as if he wasn't sure of what he was doing, "You want to know her surname, just bloody read it. I'm leaving".  
John giggled, trying to shake off that feeling of disapproval towards his friend's decision. "Leaving? And you're going… where, exactly? To Mexico? To the pub to drown your sorrows in a pint of beer?".  
Robert just snorted, but he didn't look amused. He wasn't happy with the decision he had made, and still, he wasn't going to change his mind. John could see that, clearly: once again, the "education" of his bloody noble family had done its dirty job. Robert was choosing not to search for his screenplay, because writing was just a dumb dream he was never going to fulfill. And he wasn't going to look for Cora, because how could he feel something for her, if they had just met? Yes, once again, Robert was bottling up all his feelings and was thinking straight, clearly… because that was what his father would have wanted. But Robert was not his father. And he was going to pay the cost of repressing his real self, sooner or later. "I'm just going to the kitchen to cook something for dinner", he then replied, plainly.  
But if Robert was going to give in, John was not so keen on doing the same. He was going to be Cupid... he had started to have a taste for it. "So… I am free to do whatever I want?", he asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible.  
"Well, you can't set fire to the room".  
John appreciated Robert's attempt to make a joke, but he didn't want him to change subject. "You know what I meant".  
The viscount shrugged. "I'll have nothing to do with it. It's all in your hands. Read it, if you want. I… I couldn't. I'd feel as if I was being disrespectful to Cora. And I couldn't, you know… not to her". He stopped talking, bit his lower lip and chewed his cheek.  
John looked at him, smiling. "I will say nothing, but just because I like it when you sound so madly in love".  
Immediately, Robert stiffened, his face more pink than ever. "Oh, just shut up", he pouted.  
The black haired young man laughed out loud in reply. "And you just go", he exclaimed, "Shoo, I have a surname to find out".

As soon as Robert left the room, closing the door behind him and rolling his eyes at his best friend's humor, John abruptly stood up and ran towards the desk; immediately, he took the folder in his hands and looked at it, silently thinking: so, that little thing had been the subject of all his friend's recent fears… a simple folder, transparent, with no name on it.  
But there was a name inside. And John had no doubts: he was going to read it.

He calmly opened the folder, a bit nervous: he didn't know why, but he was quite curious to see this Cora, at this point. He'd already imagined her, with her pink cheeks, her soft and pearly skin and everything, but… damn it, he wanted to see what she really looked like.  
Once the folder was opened, the young man took carefully the CV and opened it. Smirking, trying not to think about all the nervousness that was racing inside him, John glanced at the picture and what he saw surprised him: a young girl with big blue eyes, dark brown hair and her red lips curved in a soft smile stared at him. So, that was Robert's mysterious girl. She wasn't just beautiful… No, beautiful just wasn't enough to describe those soft pretty features: she was just breathtaking.

Then, he immediately did what he had opened the folder for in the first place: he took a look at her name. Cora… _Levinson._ He felt nothing at beginning… And then, out of nowhere, an idea struck him. A crazy, naughty and damn clever idea: there was Robert's computer on the desk and that meant, probably, an automatic login in the young viscount Facebook profile…  
Yes, yes, yes! He was going to do it… It was an idea Robert would never approve… But who cared? He had left!  
With his heart pounding hard, he sat down on the chair in front of the desk and turned on Robert's personal computer.

Yes, he was going to do it. For Robert's sake and for his, in a way: he just couldn't stand his pal when he was so melodramatic. Soon, on the screen of the PC appeared the Windows logo and then Robert's wallpaper, a picture he'd taken of the Yorkshire landscape. But John was not secretly using his best friend's computer just to contemplate his photos… oh no, he was going to do so much more than that. He opened Google Chrome, typed the word _Facebook_ … and there it was, Robert's Facebook profile. He smirked: he was inside. He felt like a real hacker… but a hacker for a good purpose. Immediately, he searched for _Cora Levinson_ … how many Cora Levinson could there be, in the world? Just a second, and a profile appeared on a screen: Cora Levinson, born in Cincinnati, twenty-three years old –good, just two years younger than Robert- with a pretty picture of her in a blue dress and with a sweet, beautiful smile on her lips. Winking, John did what he had planned to do all along: he sent her a friend request, matched with a short message.

 _Hello_ , he typed quickly on the computer, and bit his lower lip thinking about what to add, _I'm Robert, Robert Crawley. We met in the offices of the Carson Studios the other day, I don't know if you remember me.  
_ John read the message with a satisfied look on his face: he was so damn good at that kind of things. He really should have been a private detective or maybe a professional criminal. He chuckled and tried to focus on his goal once again: he wanted to make Robert sound like a gentle, shy and humble young man who didn't only desire to return the folder to her rightful owner, but who also didn't mind getting to know this Cora Levinson a bit better. Yet, he had to be careful: he couldn't be too forward, or she would get suspicious.

A notification appeared on the blue and white screen of Facebook: she had accepted the friend request. Good. He opened the window of the chat and started nervously to tap his index finger on the desk: was she going to reply? Oh, he really hoped so, she… she was typing! He felt his temple pulsing: he really was getting into this thing… even too much.

Finally, the message popped on the screen: _Hi! Of course I remember you! Actually, I can't stop talking about our meeting. My flat mate still thinks you are some superhero I randomly made up. You really saved the day (and my neck)._

A superhero? Good, he doubted Robert had ever been called that. _I just did the right thing and with the greatest pleasure_ , he wrote, giggling nonstop, _Meeting you and chatting with you was the greatest pleasure, actually. Oh, and I am sorry I added you this way… You'll think I'm some kind of stalker… but… you know, we swapped folders in the studios the other day and I casually read your full name, so I thought adding you on Facebook was the best way to get in touch again_

 _Yes, I noticed about the folders. I'm so sorry about that, I don't know how that happened,_ she wrote, and then, after a few seconds, she added another sentence, _And don't worry. I'd never think of you as a stalker… I'm actually really glad you found me.  
_ John couldn't help but squeal. Damn it, Robert… his old chap had really impressed her, it seemed.

He quickly replied: _Please, don't be sorry. It was just an accident, it could've happened to anyone. I'm quite relieved it happened with someone I can trust, just like you.  
_ He had to be careful, he didn't want to make Robert sound too cheeky… still, he didn't mind being a bit too extroverted from time to time.

 _Hahaha, well, thank you,_ she wrote back, adding a smiling emoji, _So, what is your plan? How are we going to swap our folders again?_

Well, that was a good question. John still hadn't thought about that… He closed Facebook for a moment and reflected… what did he know about her? Not much, really… She was nice, American she was an actress and… she liked Italian movies. Or, at least, she liked an Italian director very much. He went on Google and typed the words _Italian movies London_ in the search bar… as soon as the results popped on the screen, he was ready to write to her again.  
 _I'm going to the Electric Cinema this week with a friend of mine. They're screening classic Italian movies, and I thought you might enjoy meeting there and exchange the folders. I seem to recall you liked Italian movies._

 _And I thought you might have forgotten me,_ she wrote, and even if he had never met her, John could imagine her laughter behind the screen of the computer, _But if you remember well, I said I liked a specific Italian director…_

 _Oh, God, am I supposed to guess again?_ , replied John, joking.

 _Hahaha, no! I'll spare you… just this time. Still, I almost guessed your favorite movie…_

That's what she wrote, but John wanted to impress her… Well, actually, he wanted Robert to impress her, which he could, even if he was not there with him: he'd said the name of the director he though she preferred. So, why not try?  
 _I can try to guess, you know. Test me_ , he just typed, sending the message with a little grin.

 _You sure?_

 _Totally sure, come on._

 _Then go, try to guess my favorite director._

 _I think…_ , John wrote, creating a bit of suspense, _Your favorite director is Sergio Leone. What do you think, did I at least get close?_

Cora immediately started writing and John couldn't help being curious: who knew, maybe his friend's instinct was really right.

 _I think…_ , she typed, leaving a bit of climax just like he'd done, which made him laugh, _I'll tell you if you were right when we meet. What about Wednesday at 21?I may take my flat mate too, she never goes out during the week, she'd enjoy that. It's the time they screen a movie of my mysterious favorite director… Just promise not to peek on the internet to see who he is._

John was quite disappointed to read she was taking a friend with her, but she could quite understand her: he still believed she liked Robert… very much, really, from the way she'd written to him… Still, she barely knew him, and maybe didn't want to give him the wrong impression. And who knew, perhaps her flat mate was pretty…

 _Wednesday is perfect. And yes, I promise not to peek. I'm a gentleman, you know… I would never do that_ , he replied, adding a smiling emoticon.

 _Hahaha, I'm sorry if I hurt your honor, sir,_ she wrote, _Now I must go, must prepare dinner. But I'm so happy we could talk! So I'll see you on Wednesday, don't forget it… And, above all, don't forget the folder!_

John decided to drop a little bomb. _How could I forget about you? Thank you, Cora. Truly._

She saw the message and waited a few seconds before writing back. _And I say thank you, Robert… for everything._

He fell against the back of the chair, with a deep, long and satisfied sigh: he'd made it. He bloody had made it!  
He immediately deleted the conversation: Robert was not going to see it, oh, no… it was all going to be a surprise… and what a surprise! Oh, he couldn't wait to go to the cinema with him and see his face when he was going to see Cora… Yes, he couldn't wait! Feeling at the same time incredibly happy and clever, he switched off the PC and headed to the kitchen…He felt hungry and ready to dine, now. Of course he did.

When he entered, Robert welcomed him with a plate of spaghetti and a raised eyebrow. "So, have you schemed something while I was here cooking?", he asked, "Did you find out anything?".  
John sat down in front of his dinner, took his fork and winked. "Oh, Robert, I'm not saying. But you'll thank me", he said, smirking. And that was not just one of his usual smirks… it was much, much worse. "Believe me, you will".

 **Hi everyone! Just got back from my holiday, sorry if I haven't posted a lot in the past two weeks, but… here I am again! Please, if you've read this, do find time to leave a review! It really, really would encourage me!  
Anyway, thank you to all those who followed the story or that already reviewed it: every word you wrote warmed my heart.  
But, above all… what do you think of John Bates' scheme? Do you think his secret plan to have Cora and Robert meet again is going to work? Just let me know! **


	4. The First Time

_**Chapter IV**_

 _I have a lover  
A lover like no other  
She got soul, soul, soul, sweet soul  
And she teach me how to sing  
Shows me colours when there's none to see  
Gives me hope when I can't believe  
That for the first time  
I feel love _

"It's… Dear God, John, it's her!".

Robert found himself almost shouting those few words, for he was overwhelmingly surprised. He had decided to go to the cinema with John, that night, since his best friend had told him they were going to screen some classic movie he just had to see; frankly, the young viscount hadn't really comprehended his pal's suggestion, since he wasn't really a great cinema fan… on the contrary, he would usually fall asleep every time Robert decided to watch some cult movie. Still, he hadn't complained too much and had accepted at once… he had been pretty worn out, lately: the search for his folder wasn't going anywhere and any excuse was perfect to ease his mind for a few minutes.

All those days –a week had gone, since that afternoon at the studios- his mind hadn't rested, not even for a second: the idea of his lost screenplay had become an obsession. He felt like all of his efforts, his dreams and his chances were just one foot away from complete ruin and that idea haunted him endlessly, day and night.

Still, when he fell asleep, something would change. Because, as most novelists and psychologists sometimes write, in dreams we can find a place where all the troubles, the problems and the worries are gone… and that's what happened to him, exactly.

For at night, in the mysterious and impalpable darkness of his bedroom, Robert would only dream of her. Her blue eyes would look at him, brighter than ever, and kind. Her warm hands would take his, as if she wanted to infuse him courage. Her full, red mouth would curve sweetly in a soft smile… smile for him to see. For him alone.

Yes, Robert had started dreaming about Cora Levinson, that stranger American actress, every single night.

Not that he minded… on the contrary, he liked that… a lot. Sometimes, after a long, difficult day at the hotel his father had delegated to administrate, the awareness of his folder being lost, he would only crave to be in bed, his robust body snuggled up under the covers, his mind drifting away to the kingdom of dreams… where he would meet her again. And she would be his only consolation.

To be honest, Robert would think about her a lot even during the day… as he had admitted to John, she was constantly present in his mind. But if he had successfully managed to focus his brains on other matters, too embarrassed at the thought that he'd fallen for a girl he barely knew, his dreams hadn't cared about his worries, and had kept on coming, night after night, showing nothing but her smiling face.

At first, he had felt ashamed by that sensation of relief she'd give him in those blurry night visions, but then he had gotten used to them and had started holing up in them. In a way, those dreams allowed him not to think about a topic that John had presented in front of his eyes: he liked Cora… he had met her just once and yet, he did like her a lot. There was some kind of connection between them, a chemistry he'd felt crawling up his skin and his mind and heart while speaking to her… and, somehow, he was sure she'd felt it too. It was in the way they shyly but decisively looked at each other, in the way they had awkwardly but tenderly touched, in the way they just… were together. Even in their silences there was some sense… and all of that seemed unbelievable to him. So unbelievable he pretended none of that existed and denied it even to himself.

That explained, it was no wonder that Robert was absolutely amazed when he noticed Cora in front of the door of the cinema he was heading to with John: she was there, talking to a tiny blonde girl, just the street and all the cars passing by to divide them. Well, "amazed" was probably an euphemism, since the young man started yelling like crazy: he'd never expected to see her again… not in person, at least. He quickly turned around, expecting to notice some kind of astonishment or at least curiosity on his best friend's features, but there was none. Instead, an amused grin was maliciously lingering on his lips… it was most definitely not a good sign.

"I know it's her", John calmly replied.

In response, Robert just frowned, puzzled. Okay, perhaps John had peaked at her CV that afternoon and had seen some photo, but how on earth had he recognized her now that she was on the other side of the street? "But how can you…", the young man began, but as the first four words came out of his mouth, a dreadful doubt lodged inside him: what if John had actually contacted Cora? What if, somehow, that wasn't just a random, fortunate encounter? Dammit, it was a plausible prospect… no, in fact, he was almost sure about it. Suddenly panicking, his cheeks of an absurdly marked shade of red, Robert went on talking. "Oh, no, John you did not…".

The black-haired man stopped him before he could even pronounce another word: "I invited her here. Using nothing less than your Facebook account".

"What?!", Robert exclaimed in a not exactly manly high-pitched voice. Promptly, his heart started beating so fast he was sure his whole body was going to explode on the spot: so she was there… Cora was there… for him. No, no, he was being silly: she had come for the folder, of course she had. And yet, why did he feel so happy and relieved seeing her there, waiting for him? He rested his hand on the back of his head, nervously. "So she thinks I was the one who planned this whole thing?", he finally managed to ask, suddenly whispering. Why was he whispering, by the way? She was too far to hear him, damn… he absolutely had to pull himself together!

"Yes", John stated, with a slight shrug.

"And she believes I read her CV?", Robert continued.

"She certainly does".

There was a vaguely awkward silence before Robert, now pale as a sheet, spoke again. "I am going home", he mumbled, his voice even more high-pitched than before, and was immediately ready to flee.

The young viscount had already turned tail when he felt two strong hands grasping him and pulling him back. "Oh, come on, Robert!", John exclaimed, his tone rather enraged… Robert had to admit it: he had quite a talent for annoying people. He stared at his feet, as John went on, gesticulating angrily, "Stop freaking out, man! Just go and speak to her… Jesus, what's the matter with you?".

Oh, he could have asked the same question to him: what was the matter with John? Why had he organized that charade? What was his purpose? "You shouldn't have… I… I mean…", he stuttered, too angry to make some sense, at the moment.

"Could you try to complete a full sentence, man?", his friend teased him.

"Shut up… it's just that… you… I believe…".

"Well, that sounds like a quite brilliant speech, I must admit it".

Exasperated by his friend's humor, Robert clenched his fists before speaking again, but still stumbled on every word he said: "You, you, you… you had no right, no right at all to do what you did… Now you're going to approach her and you'll tell her…".

"What? That my best friend is a big baby and is too terrified to speak to her?", John interrupted him, joking with a big grin printed on his lips.

"I…", he faintly tried to protest. He was so mad!

John shrugged in response. "You have no choice, man".

Robert did hate to admit it, but his pal was damn right: what could he do? Run away? And to what end? He would not retrieve his screenplay that way, and Cora would probably be disappointed in him, which, somehow, made him feel guilty. He had seen her when she was sad, he had seen her body shaking and her blue eyes filled with tears… and he was sure, he was sure he didn't want to see her in that state ever again. Moreover, he craved to see her smile again much more than he was ready to admit… so yes, John was right: he had no choice. He had to stay.

"Fine", he groaned, giving up, "Precisely, what did you tell her?".

John blushed lightly… wait, John was actually blushing? That could only mean one thing: trouble. "Nothing much, I just tried to be polite and arranged the whole thing. Oh, and by the way, I told her you thought Sergio Leone was her favorite director", he explained, clearly embarrassed for his little "crime"… yes, embarrassed, but also amused and proud of himself, apparently: Robert could read it in his eyes. While he was staring harshly at him, John drew something from his coat. "Anyway, here's her folder. I took it from your home before we came here".

So, just to be clear, not only his best friend had hacked his Facebook profile, but he had also taken a folder that was in his home? Very good… it was high time to change the locks.

"You… You scoundrel", he could just say, incredulous.

John put a hand on his shoulder, winking not too reassuringly. "You'll thank me later", he exclaimed, patting him on the belly to mock him, "Now go and get her, champ". And with a loud groan, off he went.

As he was crossing the street to reach her, leaving John behind with a big smirk printed on his lips, the world around Robert just seemed to move in slow-motion: the light suddenly looked too bright, the noise of the cars' engine were muffled and every step he took just appeared to take him nowhere. The only sound he could hear clearly –even too clearly, since it was earsplitting- was his heartbeat accelerating as the distance between him and Cora shortened.

Finally, he found himself in front of her, her back turned, the main door of the cinema just a few feet away. He raised his index finger insecurely, and then politely called her. "Cora?", he just pronounced.

Immediately, she turned around and faced him… and he wasn't ready for that, he absolutely wasn't. "Robert?", she asked at first, unsure, but then, when her wonderful eyes met his, he melted, sensing that familiar itch he'd already experienced during their first encounter: only Cora seemed able to make him feel like that. "Robert!", she exclaimed happily.

"Hi", he whispered, and took a step forward, so he could admire her delicate features better: she was as beautiful as in all of his dreams.

"Hello", she replied, and stretched her hand to hold his; a vague shiver went through his body at the touch, but he tried to hide his embarrassment: if possible, he was even more awkward than the first time they had met… probably, because he was not so sure what on earth was he doing there. While he was thinking about the matters of his heart –or whatever those annoying thoughts were- she handed him a flyer, the name of the movie of the night written on it: _Once upon a time in the West_.

Robert couldn't help chuckle quietly. "So I was right… it was Sergio Leone".

She nodded and the lights of the city painted her cheeks of a warm shade of red. Or perhaps she blushed, he couldn't be sure. "Yes, you were right", she said, "You are much more intuitive than you think, you see".

"Oh, I surely am not", he giggled, swaying a bit in an awkward way, "You gave me a hint and I guessed a name. I was lucky".

But Cora didn't seem to agree with him: in her eyes, he could see some kind of admiration and respect for him… Damn, why was she looking at him like that? In his life, he'd usually found two kinds of people: those who teased him and those who pretended to respect him because they knew he was noble. And then, that young American had come along and… she had liked him for who he was. What kind of dark sorcery was that? A tricky question abruptly crossed his mind: Cora wasn't aware of his position as viscount… what was she going to do, once she found out? He swallowed and decided not to think about it: for the moment, the best thing to do was not to tell her who he really was.

He realized too late he'd remained silent for almost a minute, but Cora spared him any kind of apologize, talking again. "Anyway, this is my flat mate, Anna…", she started, turning around, just to stop, puzzled, "Wait, where had she gone?".

"Is she the one talking to John?", Robert asked, suddenly noticing his old pal chatting with the girl he had seen with Cora when he had arrived, "Oh, John is my best friend, by the way. The robust, black-haired man standing there". He pointed at him, squinting.

"Oh yeah, it's her" , she nodded and smiled, "Well, that'll spare us the introductions".

First, they did what they had planned to do from the start and exchanged their folders, which was a real relief for him, and then Robert offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted, and they entered the cinema.

Surprisingly, they talked during the whole length of the movie, which was quite unusual for Robert: he surely wasn't a patient man, and he typically would be quite petulant and bugged when other people would speak during a film. But just to listen to her voice… it was so relaxing. He laughed when she made some jokes about the various characters and frowned with silly and unjustified concern when she was moved to tears by the movie; he blushed when their fingers touched in the supersize bag of popcorn she had insisted to purchase and smiled spying at her binge-eating. Looking at her was better than watching any movie. _Once upon a time in the West_ anyway, was a really long movie, so they had a lot of time to chat… and the fact he'd already seen it thrice helped him to get to know her better and better as the minutes passed.

When they finally got out, they were both laughing. Not at each other, but with each other, and it was all so sweet and overwhelming: it was like they'd always known each other… damn, John was right. Oh, by the way, John had sent him a message of Whatsapp, telling him he had gone to accompany Cora's flat mate to work, since she was on night shift at the hospital. The little winking emoji he had added at the end of the text made Robert grin: apparently, his best pal had found someone he liked very much as well. While he was reading that, Cora asked him a question. A very simple question, actually, but that made his stomach tighten and his hands sweat: she asked him if he would have liked to accompany her home. Somehow, he sensed she wasn't lying and blushed at the sweet realization that she wanted him to stroll with her. And he wanted that too, very, very much… So saying yes was a pure formality.

They started walking, his body extremely close to hers, and they began talking again… talking about everything, literally everything: their interests, their passions, their ambitions. It was like they both didn't care to show their hearts, because they were sure the other was not going to break it. There was just one thing Robert didn't say: he never mentioned his title… it was silly, but he really was afraid Cora was going to treat him differently, once she discovered it… everybody would do it, it wasn't unusual. Of course, Cora wasn't just "anybody"… but he was still afraid: she was perfect the way she was, he didn't want her to change.

As they were chatting, the far grumble of a thunder approached incredibly quickly, as big, fat clouds gathered over their heads. In a few minutes, a real downpour started. At first, it was fun: they both started running, shouting and laughing… until, Robert noticed a detail.

"Cora… Cora!", he called, running fast beside her, "You're not wearing a coat".

It wasn't a question: she was only wearing a yellow dress which didn't look particularly warm.

"I didn't bring one, I didn't even think about that", she admitted, knitted her brows, "I can't quite comprehend how on earth your English weather works".

She was probably trying to cheer him up with her joke, but he just frowned, as big drops of cool water kept on streaming down his body and face: she going to catch a cold for sure. Okay, maybe he was going to catch it as well, but he couldn't let her. He just couldn't. "Cora, please, you must take my coat", he exclaimed, almost desperately, "I can't let you freeze".

Cora didn't turn around, she just shrugged. "Don't worry about me".

But he did worry about her, he just couldn't help it. He had started worrying about her the first time they had met, when she had cried on his shoulder, her heart on a plate for him. She had felt so delicate in his arms, so defenseless. Which of course she wasn't… and yet, yet Robert had this need inside him to protect her, this urge to keep her safe.

Suddenly, under the pouring rain that was soaking him to the bone, Robert stopped walking, planting his feet: at least, for once his stubbornness could be of some use. "I refuse to go on if you don't accept my coat, miss, I must be clear about this", he almost yelled, since the rain was coming down so violently he could hardly hear his own words.

Noticing he had no intention to go on, Cora turned around to face him and placed a wet lock of her behind her hear. "And what makes you think that I won't go on without you?", she shouted back, a teasing and skeptical look on her pretty face, "It's not like I have no idea where I am heading to".

Oddly enough, Robert didn't think before he replied: usually, he would think carefully anytime he spoke, in order to find the best words to express what he wanted to say. But not this time: no, this time, it all came natural to him. "I know you would never do that", he heard himself exclaim, with a shrug, "I know you'd never leave me behind".

For a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours, silence fell between them. And still, it was just like the first time they had met: even that silence made sense. She looked at him, he looked at her, both horribly cold… then, she smiled. "Alright, you win. Give me the coat", she mumbled, pretending to be offended, but clearly looking pleased when a glad and victorious expression appeared on Robert's face. He got closer to her, trying to protect from the wind with his body, and removed his coat to gently put it around her tiny shoulder… the rain penetrated in the collar of his shirt to dribble on the skin of his chest and back, but Robert couldn't care less… he wasn't even aware of being soaking wet. He was too busy watching that American girl wearing his coat, a coat that could have fit three of her in it, but that had never looked so outstandingly beautiful. Robert was abruptly taken away from his thought by her voice: "But don't expect this to be standard. You won a battle, not the war".

The young viscount smiled sweetly: it sounded like a joke, but he was pretty sure she was quite serious. And he wasn't going to contradict her: at the moment, he would have done everything for her… as long as she was warm. Without even adding a single word, they started running in the rain again, giggling like two children. But it all felt to natural to him… he couldn't remember being happier.

When they finally arrived to the front door of her apartment building, he silently decided to accompany her in front of her flat. She asked him if he wanted to stay for a while, to dry his clothes, but he politely refuse: he didn't feel ready to get inside her house… How ridiculous was that? Still, he preferred to take her in front of her door and then leave. They started climbing the stairs and when they finally made it, Robert had a strange idea: he took the folder she had just given it back –yes, the one with the screenplay- and offered it to Cora.

"I don't understand, Robert. Isn't this yours?", she stammered quizzically.

Before speaking again, Robert swallowed, to buy some time to find the strength to say the words he wanted to say: words that tacitly said _hey, I'm leaving you this so I have an excuse to see you again_. "Yes, but… I think you should keep it. For now, I mean… and read it. You know, I never let anyone read my screenplays, but you're an actress… so, well, maybe you can give me advice".

"If you're sure…", she muttered, uncertain.

Robert smiled. "I am sure".

Cora smiled back. "Thank you…", she mumbled shyly, quickly flipping through the pages of the screenplay. There was curiosity in her eyes, but also gratitude: two emotions that flattered Robert very, very much. "But then our appointment was for nothing", she added.

His heart suddenly beating fast, Robert swallowed. "Not at all…", he murmured and lowered his curly wet head, "It was… it was an invaluable pleasure to meet you again. Truly".

The strange but unmeasurably beautiful sensation of warmth in his chest became so strong he thought he was going to explode, when he saw her full lips curve delicately and pronounce seven amazing words: "I know. I feel exactly the same".

Dammit. John was bloody right: he had the biggest crush on her. What was the point in denying it? But the real matter was: how did she feel about him? Did she like him as well? Was she really keen on the idea of dating him or was she just being polite, and that was the only reason she hadn't rejected him yet? No, he couldn't think about that now or he was going to freak out right in front of Cora… which wasn't the best way to steal her heart, undoubtedly.

With a sigh –a sign of how he hated himself when all of his confused, stupid emotions got in the way of his rationality-, he knew it was the moment to go home. "So… I'll say goodnight", he heard himself whisper, but before he could do anything to stop himself, his heart and his impulses acted for him and he kissed her cheek: lowering his head slowly, his lips brushed lightly against her soft skin and lingered there for a few seconds, just to get lost in her sweet violet perfume.

At a certain point, it was like he had completely forgotten about time or space: how long had he been like that, touching her cheek with his lips? Oh God, that was embarrassing… Muttering a few disjointed words, he promptly pulled away, red in the face, and waved his hand to her, to signal he was going… dear Lord, he constantly managed to make a damn fool of himself!

He'd almost arrived to the stairs-which probably meant he was practically running- when he heard her voice again. "Robert!", she exclaimed, and he immediately turned around. It was so sweet, the sound of his name, when she was pronouncing it.

"Yes?", he replied.

"You forgot your coat. It's still on my shoulders", she giggled.

Yes, another fool move to add to the list. He ran towards her, clearly blushing, and started apologizing confusedly. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, of course it is… I'm always so careless".

She removed the coat from her shoulder, but there was no disappointment in her eyes: once again, she wasn't judging him… not for being a bit clumsy. On the contrary, there was a trace of sweet approval in her eyes… something he had never seen before: not in the eyes of his friends, not in those of his parents… only in hers.

"Don't worry", she muttered, smiling, "I also forgot to give you this". And before Robert could ask her what it was that she wanted to give him, she slowly placed both her hands on his broad shoulders, stood on her tiptoes and languidly but tenderly caressed his cheek with her lips, in a floppy kiss. In response, Robert stood still, almost paralyzed… paralyzed, in a very contradictory way, because he was also feeling so incredibly much: in a moment, she'd managed to take his breath away, make him shiver and feel the luckiest man on the planet. He remembered kissing his previous girlfriends on the lips, but those old kisses were nothing like this one. Because all of those women… they were not Cora.

And in that crystalized moment, as all of those thoughts and contrasting feelings ran across his mind and chest, as Cora's lips were still pressed to his skin, as the cold drops of rain were still wetting his body, Robert understood it: Cora liked him.

And maybe, just maybe… together they could work.

 **Hey guys, I'm finally back! Thanks to all those people who reviewed, followed and put my fic among their favs. It means a lot!  
First of all, for those who read it, I want to tell you I'm already working on the next chapter of "Build a Little Fire where it's Cold", so I might post it very soon. Secondly… what did you think of this chapter? Did you like Robert's contrasting emotions?  
Please, REVIEW and let me know. Love you all. x**


	5. If I needed you

_**Chapter V**_

 _If I needed you, would you come to me?  
Would you come to me, to ease my pain?  
If you needed me  
I would come to you  
I'd swim the seas to ease your pain_

Cora had no idea how she'd managed to do it, all she knew was that Robert and she were going out together. Yes, they were definitely dating: already a month had passed since that night at the cinema and they had begun to see each other almost every day, sometimes simply for a coffee, sometimes for a proper dinner in a fancy restaurant (when it was his turn to pick) or in some strange and eccentric club (when she decided).

It had taken Cora only two days to read his screenplay and she had immediately messaged him to meet again. Normally, it would have taken her much more time to read such a tome, but this time she was quite… motivated. And the cause of such frenzy was that, in fact, she was really, really eager to see that strange and immensely kind Robert again. She still kept on asking herself on daily basis why she was so hopelessly attracted by that tall, robust young man; because okay, he surely was her type: she loved to watch his smooth curls dancing lazily as the wind caressed his hair and made his cheeks turn red for the cold; she liked to see him smile or laugh, yes, it just felt so good to know he was happy, and when she was the main cause of that happiness, she felt even better; his eyes… damn, his eyes. They weren't the classic blue eyes she had seen a thousand times on a thousand faces… they were much more lively and brilliant, as if his heart, his beautiful, sweet heart spoke directly through those two eyes. And his hands… the way they held hers as they strolled in one of the many parks of London was special, perfect to watch the leaves around them turn to red, then to orange and then, finally, to gold, covering the top of the trees and the paths they walked. His hands kept her body warm and, most importantly, they kept her heart warm.

Yes, perhaps autumn was just the right season to fall in love.

But, wait, was she really falling in love? She had never used that word before, for any of her previous relationships. How could she be sure? Books and movies spoke about love all the time, explaining methodically what kind of present is perfect for a longtime girlfriend or what is the right place to take someone on a first date, but, damn, how could that be love? That was marketing and nothing more. And in a society that sold love as if it was the latest cool pair of jeans, Cora felt quite puzzled, and preferred not to use that word… not yet, at least. First, she wanted to know more, much more about that boy who could so easily make her feel butterflies in her stomach.

Because yes, she had managed to elicit some information about his life and family, but she was pretty sure that was just a part of it, and that he wasn't telling her the "whole story": he spoke about the strictness of his parents, his dream to become a screenwriter, the big house where he had been brought up, the love he felt for his dog, the movies he liked the most, his job as a manager of a huge hotel… But, somehow, she had a feeling there was more to it. Not that she thought he was a liar, of course not. He was so kind, reliable, childishly stubborn sometimes, but that just made her feel closer to him. No, she definitely couldn't believe he was a liar; still, there was something about himself he wasn't telling her and she was determined to find out what it was.

She shook those thoughts out of her chocolate brown head and she focused once again on the road in front of her and the trees surrounding it. Oh, and Robert. Robert sitting next her, his eyes fixed on the street, his lips sometimes whistling the melody of the songs coming from the radio. They were in his huge and beautiful black BMW and the more she thought about that situation, the more Cora felt like blushing: two days before she had told him she had an audition for a role in an Ibsen's play, for a company that rehearsed in a small town just out of London, and since she still hadn't had any news from Sinderby, she wanted to give it a try. That was all she had needed to say: immediately, Robert had volunteered to take the day off and drive her there, because, in his opinion, "she couldn't take a bus nor a train, because they were to slow and dirty, and anyway she deserved a much better escort". At the beginning, she had laughed at his words, convinced that he was only joking, but then, there they were: he was accompanying her, though it was one of his working days. And it was so sweet of him, she just wanted to kiss him… because if she had to find a flaw in their "relationship" –was it already a relationship? How was she supposed to call it?-, it was that they had never found the right moment to kiss.

"Any news from Mr. Carson?", she asked, trying not to stare at his lips.

Robert frowned. "Not yet. But I'm not surprised, he has a tons of things to do every day, and of course my screenplay isn't one of his top priorities".

 _It should be_ , she thought for herself, frowning, but she said nothing. She really believed his screenplay was not only well written, but also provided with a very entertaining and breathtaking plot: technically, it was just the story of a noble English family during the Edwardian Age, but, practically, it was so much more. There was love, betrayal, scandal, anger, ambition, affection… it reminded her of some British Romantic novel. When she had told him all these opinions she had about his work, Robert had looked both very embarrassed and proud, but he had dismissed the whole subject telling her she was "too kind". But she wasn't being "too kind", it wasn't her way of acting: if she was saying all those things, it was because she believed them. She was direct and true… at least, she was with the people she cared about.

Needless to say, Robert had already become one of them.

"I really like this album you put on. What's this?", she asked, noticing that that rough rock riff had managed to make her head automatically move in time with the music.

"It's _Definitely Maybe_ , by Oasis. It is… it is one of my favorites", he muttered, blushing almost imperceptibly. She had recently noticed that he felt somewhat nervous every time he shared thoughts or opinions with her: what if she didn't like the movies he had learnt to love with all of his heart? What if she had different political ideas? What if she wasn't in the same kind of music as him? Cora could see all of this insecurities poorly hidden behind his eyes of blue, but actually, they were all meaningless to her; she wanted to shout that to him, out loud: she craved to tell him that her heart and her mind were always open to him, that she was never, never going to judge him, no matter what.

"I had never listened to this before", she admitted, shrugging, and she turned to him smiling, "But now I'm quite curious. Are they your favorite band as well?".

Tapping his finger a couple of times on the wheel, he softly replied. "Oh, well, no, actually, my favorite are the Rolling Stones".

Cora's mouth opened slightly in surprise: not that that piece of information was so shocking, but her heart just couldn't help but jump every time she found out something new about him, something that could help her understand that sweet, shy and still kind of mysterious young man she hopelessly liked so much. "Wow, they're a real legend", she exclaimed.

She turned her head and saw his smiling face, beautifully framed by the country landscape that ran rapidly behind the windshield, his ash blonde curls becoming one with the fields of barley and the golden yellow autumn trees. "Yeah, they are. The way Mick's voice fuses together with the rough sound of the guitar riffs by Keith is something you just can't reproduce. It's unique… and iconic", he said, then cleared his voice, "Have you ever… have you ever seen them live?".

"Oh, no", she laughed bitterly, shaking her chocolate brown head, "My parents never allowed me to do anything. I've never even seen my favorite band live"

"And what's your favorite band?".

"Mumford and Sons. Do you know them?".

Robert nodded. "I've heard about them, but I'm not sure I've ever listened to one of their songs". While he was speaking, Cora noticed a strange light in his eyes, as if he'd had an idea, but she said nothing when she noticed a building in front of her with a sign that read _Theatre_ on it: so, finally, they had arrived to their destination. It was just a small building, with a little wooden sloped roof and a red, new painted door, but the emotions that that simple edifice was capable of making her feel…

Unexpectedly, her head began to spin, as the rhythm of her heart got faster and faster and fear took possession of her. She knew what that meant: she was panicking… again

As soon as the car stopped, Cora got out of it and tried to catch her breath, the sweat on her hands almost dripping; she was trembling, her lips parted and her eyes wide shut. She ran in a corner of the parking lot, as far as she could get from the door of the theatre. She didn't even know why, but that's all she could do. She wanted to get away. Away, away, away… As it had happened what it seemed like a thousands of time before, she was falling, her hands incapable of grasping any handhold, her heart racing madly, the sensation of terror invading her mind and body…

Away, away, away…

Closed in her bubble of horrors, she heard the sound of footsteps: _his_ footsteps. "Hey, are you okay?", Robert asked, real concern printed in his soft features: his eyebrows were lowered, his mouth was a thin straight line and his hand had reached out hesitantly to slowly brush her arm up and down.

Her heart was pounding so hard, she just really hoped he couldn't hear it: she was going to lose control over her emotions, she knew she was going to… Swallowing, she forced herself to remain calm. "Yes, I'm fine", she replied, trying to look as lighthearted as possible, but when she noticed Robert's face hadn't changed one bit, she went on, her tone slightly and jokingly polemical, "Really, Robert. Don't look at me as if I was a wounded puppy".

He just laughed and leant his curly head on the side, exclaiming sarcastically: "But I can't help it, you look like one". Oh, those words: so simple, so cute, so sweet… but they managed to pierce her heart. He probably didn't notice the effect his praise had on her, because he went on talking, this time more gravely. "Really, do tell me if something's bothering you. I want to help, you know I do", he told her, and looked at her straight into her eyes, his blue irises melting into hers.

That stare caught Cora off guard, and it took her all of her concentration to reply with a just a couple of uncertain, murmured words: "I'm… I think I'm about to panic".

Pouting, but only for his growing preoccupation, Robert just nodded and extended his hands for her to take it. There was no need to say anything: she just took it and held it strongly.

Here it was, her handhold.

Without uttering a single word, Robert guided her –not to say, almost dragged her- towards a bench in a little flower bed beside the parking lot and, touching her side lightly, he helped her sit on it. Then he went beside her and just pulled her close to him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, his big arms surrounding her tiny body kindly. "Better?", he asked gently, his arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly. Cora nodded, pressing her body even closer to his, listening to his heart beating faster and faster, a relaxing sound that made her lips curve in a small smile.

She relaxed so much that it almost came as a surprise when he spoke again: "Sometimes I ask myself if it's all this, this world you belong in, that makes you feel this way", he whispered, one hand busy caressing her hair, "And I wonder if you should maybe do something else, that maybe you should just follow your heart and be what you want to be".

It felt odd to hear him say those words: what did he mean, exactly? That she was wasting her life? Or, even worse, that she was ruining it? And what if he was right? She lowered her eyes, which was strange to her, and only made her feel more and more ashamed. Why was she being so pathetic? He had already seen that side of her –her weak side, the side she hated, the side that someone from her past had left on her like a cursed mark-, but he had never really treated as if she was fragile. Robert had only treated her with respect and affection, and he deserved to be looked in his eyes when she was talking to him. She raised her head and talked slowly: "I'm only an actress, that's all".

"Oh, come on, we both know that is what you are, but this is not what you want to do", he exclaimed, but then on his face appeared a doubtful look: was he afraid he had gone too far? His lips started shaking. "I'm… I'm sorry, I surely am not in the position of lecturing you, I shouldn't have…", he started stammering.

Cora rolled her eyes and interrupted him. "Will you stop apologizing, just for once?", she almost snapped, though she didn't mean to be so aggressive. She sighed before speaking again. "You needn't be sorry. I told you acting is not my dream, and that's the truth", she admitted, and even if her instinct told her to lower her head again, she resisted that temptation.

As if he had realized what an effort she was making to stay strong and look at him, his right hand reached out for hers, caressed her palm and then pulled it close to his face, to kiss it tenderly once, twice and then one final, longer time. God, this was new: Robert was usually so introverted, so fearful when it came to openly show emotions… Cora dived into that soft feeling so deeply that she barely heard his voice when he started talking again. "What I meant was… there must be something you really would love to do…".

"Well, maybe, but…", she stuttered.

"But?".

Once again, Robert's genuine interest in her passions and ambitions made her blush. "It's such a naïve, stupid dream. You'd take me for a fool", she whispered, and caressed his knuckles.

He didn't even wait a moment before replying: "I couldn't even consider the thought of taking you for a fool", he stated firmly and kindly, "I will understand if you don't want to tell me, but if you want to talk, you know I'm here. I'm always here".

Defeated by his overwhelming sweetness, Cora finally decided to tell him the truth: "Fact is… what I want to do is to help people. I've always wanted to do it, and so I really would like to study psychology. I've seen lots of people torn apart by their fears, doubts and anxiety… I would like to do something, if I can. To speak to them, to help them get up once again. I don't know if this is a completely genuine drive, or if, in a way, it is a bit egoistic".

"Well, behind every good deed lies a bit of self-satisfaction, you shouldn't blame yourself for that".

"Has anyone ever told you that you speak like a book?", she mocked him, but she was glad that he could read her emotions so well.

He smiled. "I'm not sure this is a compliment, but I'll take it as one".

In response, Cora just buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his aftershave. He accompanied her gesture caressing her back and he decided to be silent, to have her relax once again. How could any man be so gentle?

For the second time, anyway, the quiet was interrupted by his voice. "You know Cora, I've been thinking about you a lot, lately", he admitted, his voice coming muffled to her ears, but the importance and the intensity of his words still able to make her shiver a bit, "And I came to a conclusion, I guess".

He paused for a second, as if he was uncertain whether to go on or not. Cora raised her head, and her curious look probably urged him to speak. "The point is that you are…", he began, then, all of a sudden, his cheeks turned pink and he stopped, gesturing confusedly, "No, well, I shouldn't say it. We've known each other for a month, I don't want to exaggerate".

Cora felt the need to laugh at his reaction, but she just raised an eyebrow. "Exaggerate?", she asked.

"Of course. Don't you know that us Englishmen never speak about matters that involve emotions too deeply?", he replied with a small, shy smirk, his face still a light shade of red, "What would happen to our reputation, otherwise?".

This time, she really laughed, but with him, not of him. "Well, Robert, I am American... I do doubt my reputation would ever be in jeopardy", she exclaimed, nudging him playfully.

At that point, he looked right at her, a strangely serious look on his face, a look that made him more gentlemanly and beautiful than ever. And then, then those few simple words came out of his mouth: "You are an extraordinary woman, Cora".

Her blue eyes widened, expressing all of her disbelief: damn, what had he just said? She had figured out he liked her from the beginning, practically, but that admission… How could he think she was extraordinary? She thought of herself as a clever, good-looking and determined young woman, but the word _extraordinary_ had never occurred to her. She shook her head with a bittersweet grimace printed on her full lips. "Oh, come on, now you're joking".

Immediately, Robert frowned, as if his honor had been offended somehow, and he changed position on the bench to look right at her, both her hands suddenly in his, and filled with his now familiar warmth. He took a deep breath before he started talking, his tone calm, but still resolved: "No… really, you're to me. Look at you, you're the perfect example of how marvelously complex can humans be. You're young, and yet you're determined and, somehow, even wise. Unlike me, you're incredibly rational and good at planning. And yet, at the same time, you hide a very different side of yourself, the heart of a young rebel and a dreamer, unexpectedly sweet. And there is… I mean, there is also a certain fragility in your soul, the fragility of a girl who's decided to put aside what she really loves, in order to pursue the duty her mother has set for her. It's hard to explain, but it's a different kind of fragility… it's a fragility that… shows strength, if this makes any sense".

It did make sense… at least, it really, really did to her. He had talked to her as if he knew her much better than he actually did, as if he was aware of that burden of the past that still weighed on her shoulders, keeping her awake at night from time to time and eating her alive when she thought about it. Tears threatened to come out of her eyes, but, as always, she pulled them back. Instead, she smiled politely at him. "Are you sure you shouldn't be the one studying psychology?", she joked.

Robert chuckled, shaking his curly head, and the sweet sound of his shy and embarrassed laughter touched her soul, making her feel something she couldn't quite name, but that was new and amazing. "I'm not really good at understanding people, believe me", he said, shrugging.

"I believe you are", she corrected him, placing a hand in front of her, in a gesture that didn't permit any reply, and though Robert tried to speak anyway, she interrupted him, "I will hear no comments about this. I'm the one who can judge here, right? And I say you can understand people, otherwise you wouldn't have this undeniable power of making me feel better".

Robert's mouth opened, but before he could reply, they were interrupted by a man in a very elegant suit, looking at them with his pale green eyes, clearing his throat nervously.

"Are you Cora Levinson?", he asked, lowering his eyebrows skeptically.

"Yes, it's me", she simply replied.

"Well, I'm the co-director of the play. We've been waiting for you, miss, you know. You're late. You better come in before someone gets really angry".

The tone of the man hadn't been kind at all and it was clear that Robert was going to burst from anger for that useless show of rudeness, but Cora touched his hand to calm him down. "I'm coming in at once. I'm sorry for the inconvenient".

So, she got inside the theatre, but the panic that had assaulted seemed like an old memory to her, now. The building, anyway, looked a bit bigger from the inside, with a quite large stage and at least twenty rows of seats, where some other actresses were preparing for the audition. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Robert, who had been following her, and he smiled back, in the most encouraging way. A very, very good start. As he sat on one of the chairs, she gave her CV –the famous CV that had been the main cause of their encounter- to the co-director and he nodded, telling her to get on stage and perform the monologue for the role.

And so she began, reciting every word with everything she had, as she had always done it. Robert's astonished look only helped her to give more and more as she went on… but soon enough, it was clear to her that there was something wrong: the co-direct didn't seem to like her, not at all. On the contrary, he was constantly distracted, and when he focused his attention on her once again it was only to grin and whisper something in his assistant's hear, who apparently had been instructed to laugh at every silly joke. The man was clearly hating every second of it… but why? Cora knew she wasn't that bad, even though she didn't appreciate acting that much. All of her certainties fell at once: she clenched her fists until her nails pierced the skin of her palms, her teeth gritted, but she didn't move. She just stood there, as her hands began to sweat, her body began to shiver, her breathe began to die in her mouth and throat.

She was panicking. Once again. And there was just nothing she could do about it.

But the worst of it was the co-director's reaction: he was simply smiling. Not with her. He was smiling of her, of her performance, of the career she was basing her whole life on. Of the vulnerability she was showing. Yes, he was just smiling, but in the worst way possible… There was nothing of the sweetness that characterized Robert's smile: no, the lips of the stranger were curved malevolently as a web of wrinkles spread across his cheeks, his eyes opened and filled with silly amusement, his brows raised as a sign of mockery. Soon, the smile became a laugh. A long, loud laugh, that made everybody in the room turn and look at her. She didn't blush –apparently, Robert was still the only one who could make that effect on her-, but a lots of other feelings were torturing on the inside… feelings of shame and embarrassment.

And then, suddenly, he spoke: "I'm sorry, miss, but I seriously cannot understand how on earth you could become a professional actress if only an audition has this effect on you", the co-director exclaimed, still grinning like the idiot he was, "This is a serious play, you know. We simply cannot accept this level of incompetence".

She couldn't stand it. She just couldn't. She felt her chest burning and burning, as if it was a furnace: she wanted to go to that bastard and tell him that he could as well keep his poor opinions about her for himself, making him understand what a low person he was. And she would've done it, once. It would have taken her just a moment to arm herself and go… yeah, but once. Not now, now that she was so unsure, so fragile, so constantly afraid of other people's judgement.

Before the co-director could add anything, she climbed down the stage. She barely could understand where she was going, but it didn't matter… She felt like she was going to die, like everything was just going to explode any moment soon. She wanted to scream, to cry, but she could only walk, faster and faster. Her head down, to avoid the looks of the other actors, she rushed to get out of the theatre: she needed to calm down. She needed to fill her lungs with fresh air. She needed to… Before another terrified and incoherent thought could appear in her mind, two strong hands grasped her arms, stopping her run. Immediately, she looked up and, to be honest, she was not surprised when she saw two bright blue eyes looking down at her.

Robert's bright blue eyes.

Smoothly, he caressed her cheek, and only that gesture made her pulse slow down a little; instinctively, she was going to lean her head against his chest and get lost in his perfume, but Robert had other plans: he helped her sit down on the chair where he had been and, without saying a word, he turned around and walked menacingly towards the co-director.

God, what on earth was he going to do?

While another young woman was getting on stage for the audition, Robert tapped on the co-director's shoulder to catch his attention and, as soon as he turned to him, he started his speech, his tone particularly harsh and firm: "I'm sorry, mister, I wouldn't have come to you on other occasions since, to be honest, I spontaneously wouldn't have the slightest intention of talking to you, but I saw no other way around it, so I just had to approach you". The man tried to interrupt him, but Robert was mandatory: "Shush, I haven't finished. Let me explain myself and then, if you'll have something clever to say, you'll be very welcome to speak your mind. Point is, I think everyone in this room noticed how you mocked my girlfriend, just because she had a panic attack during her performance. Very gentlemanly, I must say. Let me understand this better: you laughed at her because… you thought that her vain attempts to catch her breath were funny? You believed the clear terror in her eyes was a source of amusement?". The stranger got crushed by those questions, asked with so much seriousness, so much solemnity: Robert was basically scolding him, and he seemed too abashed to even mutter a single word. Cora noticed that his face was all red, a sight that made her grin a little, and meanwhile Robert decided that he was tired of that silence and went on: "Well, mister, if you don't know it, I surely cannot. But let me be clear about this: panic attacks are not fun. They're not a sight to enjoy or smile of. They are a very specific kind of disorder and I'm afraid my girlfriend suffers from them. Do you know what it is like to be convinced you could die any moment soon? Do you want to know it?". Once again, the man didn't reply: his cheeks were turning even pinker. The silence encouraged Robert to go on talking: "I think not. So, please, next time, if you find this kind of things amusing, you better withhold your smile –to be frank, your very stupid, inappropriate and insulting smile. Otherwise, you will have to deal with me. Good day to you".

Cora felt many things in that moment, too many to recount them all: pride, happiness, commotion, affection and something more, something else and new, something she couldn't quite name.

Was it love? She didn't want to know. Not yet.

She looked at Robert in awe as he turned around and approached her, the tension in his features quickly disappearing. He was like a God in her eyes, now, with his broad shoulders perfectly framed by his jacket, his curly hair somewhat messy, and his eyes, initially filled with lightning and thunders, sweetened as they meet hers. How funny he was: when he spoke to other people, he looked like a king, powerful and charismatic, a mature man that no one could judge; and then he'd come back to her and her arms -those arms that had known him for just a month, but that already perceived his massive body as tenderly familiar- and he would be so clumsy, childish and cute. How could she not fall for that? For everything that Robert was?

When he finally arrived in front of her, his cheeks were pink. He lowered his head and took her hands, as his voice came mildly ashamed out of his lips: "I'm sorry I spoke up for you, I know you are strong enough to do it for yourself, but you were panicking and he was still smirking like an idiot and so I just couldn't…", he stopped, realizing he had begun to stammer, and he took a deep breath before continuing, "And, and… I know I called you _my girlfriend_ without any notice, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, but I…".

Before another single word could come out of his mouth, Cora used her left hand to grasp the collar of his shirt, while placing the right one softly on his cheek, and she captured his lips with hers, in a sweet, sloppy kiss that clearly caught him unprepared: at first, his body didn't respond to her vigorous display of affection, freezing on the spot, but then, as her tongue began to find a way inside his mouth, he immediately gave her access; their tongues collided tenderly and his hands rested strongly on her shoulders and her back, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

Yes, _the kiss_. Their _first real kiss_.

After some intense moments, with her eyes closed, Cora pulled away slowly, savoring his taste as long as she could, and then she was surprised by his forehead, which joined hers tenderly. "But I am your girlfriend, you dummy", she murmured, and she knew damn well how sensual her voice sounded in that moment, while her hand fiddled with his short curls on the back of his head, her eyes strategically fixing into his and then moving to his thin lips, now swollen from their kissing, "And I'm happy that my beautiful, clever and strong _boyfriend_ not only stands up for me, but is sensible and sensitive enough to apologize because he knows I could have done it myself. Now, listen to me, _boyfriend_ … I'm glad you did it. I was panicking, I couldn't speak and barely breathe, and he was making fun of me... You were just amazing. So… thank you, _boyfriend_ ".

Robert caressed her cheek delicately, tracing the contour of her jaw and the shape of her lips with his thumb. "If you say boyfriend another time I think my heart could just explode", he whispered, and he placed his lips on her forehead, in a sweet, slow kiss.

All those sensations made her feel something she hadn't been familiar to in a very, very long time: in his arms, with his mouth pressed to her hair and her head leant on his chest, _she felt home_. She had never been able to feel home in London and even in the America, in her country, she had had to run away… because it wasn't her home anymore. But could Robert, could he be her home now? "And we don't want that, right?", she finally chuckled, pecking his nose, "No, I think I want your heart exactly where it is", she added, placing a hand exactly on his chest.

A few moments of peaceful silence passed before he replied. "You know, I think I could grow accustomed to this", he exclaimed, a shyly satisfied look on his face, "Your kisses and everything".

Cora laughed, and against her breasts she felt his heart racing at the sound of her giggle. "And I very much hope you will", she said, and seized the moment to place another quick, tender kiss on his lips, "I really do".

 **Hi everyone! Finally, I'VE MADE IT! I'm sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter, but I had this damn exam I just hated and I had to study a whole month to get it right. But now, I'm back! Soon enough I'll post a new chapter of Build a little fire where it's cold, so hold on! Thanks everyone for the attention, please:  
1) DO REVIEW! I love all the reviews I received, they were amazing!  
2) what did you think of Cora and Robert's first kiss? Did you enjoy it?  
Enjoy! xx**


	6. Listen to the Man

_**Chapter VI**_

 _I feel your head resting heavy on your single bed  
I want to hear all about it  
Get it all of your chest  
I feel the tears and you're not alone  
When I hold you, well I won't let go_

Cora had got the job she had auditioned for when they had first met. Robert still hadn't heard from Mr. Carson… and yet, he couldn't help but being over the moon for what his girlfriend –how delightful that word sounded when it was connected with Cora!- had accomplished. She was going to have a part in quite a prestigious movie directed by Daniel Aldridge and that meant only one thing: she had made it. And that lead to another thing: she absolutely had to enjoy her victory.

Those were, more or less, the things Robert had told Cora the night before, when he had gone to her place to keep her company: Anna, her flat-mate, had usually night shifts and so she felt quite lonely… Something Robert was eager to adjust. So he had sat on the sofa with her, her hands in his, and he had told her how they absolutely had to go to a special Italian restaurant to commemorate her achievement… and that was exactly when something odd had happened: Cora had just looked at him with glassy eyes, her features expressing a certain sadness, and she had replied that all she wanted was to cuddle with him all night and eat ice cream. He had been about to tell her that that was absolute nonsense, when a doubt had hit him: was she on her period? Yes, she had confirmed, nodding, she was… and her belly was in pain, so she really couldn't go out.

The young viscount had always thought of himself as a man of culture, with a great deal of knowledges of all types. But damn, he had never realized that the famous "time of the month" was such a strain for women: his Cora, his pretty, sweet Cora had never looked so feeble, afflicted and absent before. They had been dating for four months, so he surely had seen her in those… conditions other times, but this one… this one was far worse.

Now, Robert had always had some problems with all things medical. They just… disturbed him, somehow. Even going to the dentist for a check was a slow torture for him. So he didn't really know how to act in order to make his girlfriend joyous once again… he just knew he had to do something: she was still constantly panicking, because deep inside she was afraid she would never reach anything in her life… afraid that she had no talent and that everybody –especially her mother- would judge her harshly; the fact that her audition had gone so well was an obvious evidence of the opposite. She kept on saying that Robert, who had been with her that whole afternoon, consoling her and showing her the way to the audition, had been her savior; that she would have never gotten the job, without him. But he disagreed: it was high time Cora took all the credits she deserved and understood how strong she was. And all that deserved a celebration: it was a big step on her path to get rid of those attacks that were influencing her life so negatively.

Now, about twenty-four hours had passed from the moment he had found out Cora wasn't feeling too well and, after a whole day of profound meditation, he had finally come to the perfect plan: he had to organize a little surprise for Cora. He would invite her to his house that evening and he would make sure every wish she had was granted… and he knew exactly how to do it.

Thinking about how his "scheme" had taken shape, Robert was striding hectically across the room, preparing the final touches of his surprise, while John Bates, his best friend, stood silent with his back against the wall, studying him with quite a stupefied look on his face. He would go to his house every day just after dinner, but he seemingly hadn't foreseen to find his friend so busy to please his new girlfriend. "So…", he started, crossing his arms and clearing his throat, "You did all this, just for her?"

"Yeah", Robert stated, lifting his face from the bunch of flowers he was adjusting in a vase and raising an eyebrow inquiringly, "What's wrong with it?".

John shrugged. "Nothing… on the contrary… I just never realized what a romantic you are".

Robert avoided to meet his friend's gaze, fearing he would notice his discomfort: he never liked to show his most sensitive side, not even to him. "I am not that romantic, come on…", he objected, shaking his curly ash-blonde head, "She just… she needs some relax. She's so stressed lately… but she got the job, she should feel happy".

"You told me she's on her time of the month, of course she's stressed", John giggled, "You've had girlfriends before, you should know a couple things about it… Right?". He hesitated for a moment before asking again, almost astonished, "Right?".

Robert blushed. "I just didn't think it was true", he tried to justify himself, shrugging and looking at his friend with a somewhat offended frown, "I mean, I didn't believe in the cliché of all those romantic comedies… I couldn't imagine all women on their period wandering aimlessly around the house in their pyjamas crying and looking for ice cream".

The other man grinned, shaking his dark brown head, incredulous and amused at the same time. "Bob, you happen to have both a mother and, more importantly, a sister, how is that even possible that you haven't realized how menstruations work?".

The hair on Robert's arms stood up hearing the M-word –damn… how ridiculous was that, anyway?-, but he swallowed, leant against the doorjamb and tried to act natural when he replied: "I don't know, women are strange… my mother in particular. I never noticed anything, they must be really good at hiding it".

At that point, John couldn't contain a loud, long laugh; this time, Robert didn't even take it personally: he knew he was the worst when it came to medical details or "feminine problems", as he used to call them. "Man, your knowledge of women is comparable to that of a twelve-years old kid", his friend mocked him, "I'm beginning to understand why all your previous relationships never lasted longer than six months".

Dangling his head, a wild curly lock of hair swinging irritatingly before his eyes, the young viscount curved his thin lips in a small, humorous smile: "Well, I've been dating Cora for only four months, are you trying to imply anything?", he joked.

John smirked in reply. "But Cora's different. She's crazy about you".

Robert's cheeks immediately turned pink and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could answer: "She's not _crazy about me_. That's an overstatement".

"Oh, believe me, the reasons of this interest she's got for you are far beyond me", he replied sarcastically, but then, suddenly, he furrowed his brows and became serious, "But you should see how her eyes lighten up when she talks about you or how her face becomes of a mild shade of red when someone mentions your name. She's just nuts about you, I'm telling you".

Deep down, Robert knew that all those things John were saying were true… and still, still he couldn't believe it: why would Cora be so fascinated by him? That, he just couldn't understand: he had never considered himself particularly interesting or charming. But Cora seemed to express a contrary view: she kept on going on about how fun, gentlemanly and sweet he was, when, in fact, half of the time they had spent together, he had been stubborn, childish and embarrassing. The viscount gave his friend a meaningful look before speaking again: "The point is… I'm a kind of a thick-head snob, while she is… so witty, tough and sensible, and yet she can be so gentle", he began, gesturing with his hands, as if that helped him to express those compliments even better, "Yesterday she was sweeter than ever, even though she looked so weary and gloomy, at the beginning. So I laid down beside her on her little single bed for the whole evening, cuddling her, you know, pecking her cheeks and nose, caressing those little fragments of skin left uncovered by her jumper, playfully whispering tender words in her hear… until we both realized it was the middle of the night. And to thank me, she just smiled. It was all I needed. We barely could fit on that teeny mattress, but I had never felt better in my whole life". He paused, looking at the wall in front of him, "I really don't know how I could ever deserve someone like her".

"Look at you", exclaimed John after a few seconds of silence, leaning back against his chair, "My baby boy has fallen in love".

Robert's body immediately stiffened. "Shut up!", he exclaimed, his high-pitched voice showing how flustered and exasperated he was, "I'm just saying… I like to be with her, to stand by her side".

In reply, John just grinned, as usual. "And… have you told her?", he suddenly asked.

The young viscount glared, confused. "Told her about what?", he stammered quizzically.

His friend just raised an eyebrow. "Don't play the fool with me, Bob, I'm not buying it", he replied, quite seriously now, "Have you told her that you're a viscount and you're going to be an Earl one day or are you still avoiding the subject?".

Oh, it was about that… again: ever since he had found out about that "secret" –if it could even be called a secret, since everybody basically knew about it- he had been keeping from Cora, John had become quiet pedantic and feisty about the whole deal. "I…", Robert muttered, cracking his knuckles nervously, and it was enough to make John grumble complainingly.

"You haven't even thought about telling her, am I right?", he blurted, hands up in disbelief.

"No, it's not like that… I just haven't found the right moment yet", he defended himself, sneering, "Besides, I don't see why I should be in such a hurry to tell her".

"Such a hurry? You two have been dating for months! You keep on saying she can understand you better than anyone else, and yet you keep on hiding parts of your life from her. I don't really get why you're doing this, man".

As always, John had found his weak spot: it was all true, everything he'd said. Cora was the best, in every single way… but there was something inside him that stopped him from disclosing all of his secrets. It was dumb, it was clear even to him. He took a deep breath before speaking again: "I… I'm afraid she could change her mind about me, once she finds out who I am", John was about to interrupt him, but Robert shushed him, "No, please, let me explain, then you can insult me, if you want. Most of the people I know just pretend to respect me or treat me like I'm some kind of king when they discover I'm a noble and son of a business man… they just begin to see me through completely different eyes. And so they act unnaturally, and most of the relationship I have are based on this, on completely fake and pompous sentiments. I don't want her to lose her genuineness and her purity… I don't want to lose _my_ Cora".

John laughed bitterly at his little speech and said a simple sentence, that alone was able to make Robert feel guilty: "Yes, but Cora is not _most of the people you know_ ".

He was so bloody right… but, somehow, that still didn't make any difference. "Just…", he began, stumbling on that single word, "Let me find the right moment and I will tell her".

At that point, John surrendered: he had probably realized that Robert was way too stubborn to insist any longer. "Yeah, whatever", he groaned, shrugging, "I guess she must be about to arrive any moment, right? Good, then I must be going. Anna is probably already waiting for me, I'm supposed to pick her up from work". That said, he grabbed the car keys from his pocket and his jacket.

Robert grinned. "Well, I see I'm not the only one who has a big crush, around here…".

John already had an answer ready: "At least I told her I'm unemployed", he joked.

In reply, Robert just laughed: the subject of their conversation was exactly the same, but the tones had just changed; it always ended up like that, between the two of them… any argument just turned into a mockery. "Go away before I get angry, you bastard", he exclaimed, giggling, and he hugged his best friend a couple times, before he finally went away, still teasing him about his absurd and stupid behavior.

Anyway, John's words had had quite an impact on him and he was feeling uneasy, so he tried to put even more concentration in the preparations, in order to forget all about it. He didn't want to be confused or in a bad mood, not now that Cora, who had messaged him on Whatsapp a few minutes before, was coming. He needed to be as happy and supportive as he could. When he finally heard the doorbell, he couldn't help but squirm in excitement, a stream of agitated and meaningless questions running wildly inside his head: was she going to enjoy his idea? Was she going to relax? What if she thought the whole thing was just dumb? No, he had to stop: those paranoias were not going to take him anywhere. Breathing in and out a couple of times, he clenched his fists to reestablish a certain composure in his ways, and he went to open the door. There she stood, like a vision: her dark brown curls were held back by a thin red headband with a little ribbon on it, while her face, though clearly tired, glowed when she smiled at him; she was wearing a casual pair of jeans and a black coat. She was so beautiful, he almost found himself speechless before her; then, mindful of the surprise, he greeted her with a soft kiss on the cheek and a couple kind words, just to let her enter. Once she was inside the house, she promptly understood that there was something… different, from the other times she had been there.

"Robert…", she slowly and gently called him, her tone a bit puzzled. He just turned to her, a huge smile printed on his lips. "Why are there some many flowers around the flat?", she continued, almost stumbling on her own words, her lips wide opened, for she couldn't quite comprehend what was going on, "And why did you put Mumford and Sons on? I didn't think you knew them".

Stopping just before his couch, he moved his hand, as to point the room and everything there was in it: the flowers, the music and all those little pretty things Cora hadn't noticed yet. "This… is a surprise, just for you", he just told her, waiting for her opinion.

"A surprise?", she exclaimed out loud, genuinely confused, "What's the occasion?"

"Cora, we don't need an occasion: after all your efforts and struggles, you got the job, you finally made it. I know I have no right to say it and I didn't even have a part in it –no, don't interrupt me, it was all your doing, my helping you surely didn't influence your talent during the audition-, but… I'm so proud of you. You keep on telling me that you've become weak and fragile, but who I see here is a winner, a strong winner that I can only admire and cherish", his eyes wandered on her figure, maybe even a little too boldly and, though she blushed, she never looked down, "And I just couldn't stand to see you so down yesterday. You should be celebrating. So here's our little party".

"Robert, you needn't worry all the time, really… it's not like I'm down… You know that I'm on my period and I tend to be a little too emotional during these days…".

"There's nothing wrong about being a little emotional… but can't I at least try to make you feel only positive emotions?", he promptly replied and stretched his hands for her to take, "Can I show you what I have prepared?".

She rapidly took it with a smile. "Lead the way".

First he pointed at some DVDs that were lying beside the TV. "I picked some movies… some of them are a selection of your favorites, all the others are the ones you mentioned you wanted to watch. There's also _Four weddings and a funeral_ , since you've been talking about it for months, by now", he then went on, tapping his index finger on his lips, his brows furrowed, as if he was particularly concentrated, "Then, I chose some books we might read. It was harder, with these ones, but I figured out that some Austen, Shakespeare and Dickens would do the trick… I may read for you or, in case you are in the mood for Shakespeare, I could "play" the male characters and you could give your pretty voice to the women. I was thinking about _Love's Labour's Lost_ … _From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: they sparkle still the right Promethean fire; they are the books, the arts, the academes, that show, contain and nourish all the world._ Some of the best lines ever written… and they even make much more sense, if I can recite them with you", he said it with such firmness, and then he lowered his face, his cheeks burning for his audacity; he put a hand behind his head in embarrassment and then finally went on: "And this… this is self-explanatory, really. A pile of blankets, another one of my sweaters –are you happy? You've said you wanted one of my jumpers for ages!- and a thermos of hot chocolate". He put both his hands on his hips, breathing in and out loudly; then he turned to Cora, smiling: "And this is… all for you".

She held his stare fiercely, but there a sweet light in her eyes he'd never seen before. "None of the guys I've known would've done something like this for me", she exclaimed, walking lazily across the living room to see every detail of his surprise: first, she read the titles of the various DVDs he had piled near the TV, then she inhaled the perfume of the various bouquets he had placed across the room, until she finally grabbed one of the blankets –a particular cute one, actually, since it had pink ponies printed on it- and she wore it like a cape. She took a step towards Robert and she turned around, giggling, so he could admire her and her new "outfit".

"Well, maybe there's a reason why no one has ever done something like this…", he murmured, in equal parts ashamed and proud of the impact his idea had had on her.

Presumably, she noticed his ambivalent mood, for she took his hands and placed them on her hips with a soft smile, "Come here, you dummy, and hold me close", she almost ordered him, and as he embraced her, squeezing her slim boy against his massive one, she seized the moment to kiss his lips tenderly, and hummed in his mouth: "I could never have asked for anything better".

Robert could see stars, though his eyes were closed: that was the effect Cora had on him. At the same time, he felt like a teenager with his first crush and like a mature man who had finally found his better half. He caressed her hair, lowering his head a bit to join his forehead with hers; then, he added a few words: "There's more".

Rubbing his chest delicately, she slowly pulled away from him, and gave him a confused look. "More? What are you talking about?".

"Close your eyes", he said tenderly.

"Robert, come on…".

He shook his curly head, smiling. "Just close them".

Finally giving up to his request, she closed her blue eyes and Robert took advantage of the moment to draw something from his jacket. "You can open them now".

He savored every moment of Cora opening her blue eyes again, for the astonishment that made her almost shout out for joy and painted her cheeks of a vermillion shade of red was a spectacle that had no comparison in the whole world. And the reason for such an enthusiastic reaction was a simple one: he had bought two tickets for a Mumford and Sons show in London. "Robert…", she stuttered, admiring the tickets as if they were some kind of treasure, "You shouldn't have…".

He stopped her with a gesture of her hand. "Allow me to disagree: I absolutely had to", he explained, "They're your favorite band and you've never seen them in concert. We have to fix this".

Somewhat uncomfortable, Cora turned her back to him, lowered her chocolate brown head and stammered: "But the cost…".

Without a second thought, he hugged her from behind, kissing her temple. "Don't you worry about the cost", he whispered, and he meant it. He didn't want to brag about his money, but in that exact moment, he was sure he would have paid any price to make her happy. Actually, it wasn't even about his wealth: he just wouldn't have done anything for her. Anything and at all costs… For an Englishman who had always thought of himself as a cold, distant young man, it was a new, breathtaking sensation. He needed to be sure that she knew that.

"Cora…", he then added, without breaking the embrace.

"Yes?".

He made her whirl in his arms to talk to her _vis a vis_. "I don't want you to think that I'm trying to… buy you or something. I mean… with the tickets, the movies and everything else… God, how bad did this sound? I just…".

He was about to begin a very awkward speech, but she politely interrupted him: "I know you want me to feel better, Robert, please, you don't have to justify yourself every time", she sighed, "I just… feel indebted to you, now. And not just because of the tickets, but… because of everything. Ever since we met, you've done so much for me: you took me to my auditions, you supported me, you did everything you could to make me smile. I used to be… different, once, before many things happened in my life. I used to be really independent and I needed less attention… I don't want you to believe I'm some kind of Mary Sue in need of protection or…".

It was his time to interrupt her, now. "I know you're not, Cora. You just need some help to get back on your feet and come back to be the woman you used to be. I can see how strong you are, behind all of your insecurities… there's nothing wrong in going through a rough patch, you know, we've all been there, sometimes, though not everyone had to deal with panic attacks as well... but if I can help you even in the teeniest of ways, I must do it. I must help you to relax and get the old Cora back, I'm curious to get to know her", he paused, lowered his eyes and smiled, "I already find this one incredibly enchanting, not to mention, she's damn energetic and courageous… I'm pretty sure the old one will kick my ass, once we get to know each other".

There were no more words needed: now actions were much more important and they were both determined to benefit from everything Robert had prepared. First, he poured some chocolate in two mugs –hers was a new, special one, with the words _Best girlfriend in the world_ written on it… it was cheeky, but he hadn't resisted to the temptation of buying it… because she really was the best-, then, since it was still early in the evening, they decided to read something: Cora indulged him and they began _Love's Labour's Lost_. Robert just couldn't hide his satisfaction: he had the most gorgeous woman in the world in his arms, her back gently rested against his belly, and she was once again showing him that she was also the smartest girl he had ever known, since she recited every word with fervor, putting everything she had in it, and randomly pulling some fun fact about Shakespeare every time they paused. A shaky feeling spread in his chest: his girlfriend was a genius, he thought, brushing his lips against her temple. After the first act, they decided to put aside the play so they could keep on reading it another time –the longer it took them, the better, since every line had been interrupted by their cuddling, their laughing and, most importantly, their kissing-, and they picked one of the movies: he let her decide and she was absolutely sure she wanted to see _When Harry met Sally_ , since he had never watched it and it was a must-see for her. He hated to admit it, but he almost cried when the film was about to end… and those tears he hardly contained were the result of this quote:

 _I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible._

After that, it was impossible for him to let her go: he made her sit on his lap to kiss every single inch of her face and, without even realizing that those words were slipping out of his swollen lips, he asked her to stay. Marveling at the intensity of his stare, the determination in his low voice and the sweetness of his kisses, she immediately said yes, just to apologize a few seconds later, since she hadn't expected to spend the night there… but of course, she had nothing to be sorry about: on the contrary, Robert couldn't picture anything better in the world than to fall asleep with her in his arms, listening to the sound of her steady breath and her heart, signs of her life, signs of her presence beside him. Signs and proofs that she had chosen him.

Cupping her face and caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, he captured her lips once again to make his point clear: she had no reason to apologize; then, even though they both didn't feel ready to leave each other's warmth yet, they stood up and headed to his room. Robert felt thrilled and nervous at the same time, as he gave Cora one of his t-shirts to wear and waited for her as she was changing in the bathroom. When she came out, without make-up on and with that ridiculously big sweatshirt on, Robert's instinct immediately guided him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist to conduct her inside his bed. There, he covered her with the same cute blanket she had picked before, and, when she curled up on her side, he drew her close, spooning her. For a second, he wondered what it would be like if Cora had been the big spoon… and his imagination became incredibly vivid, and in his mind he could almost feel her thin arms surrounding his chest and her breasts touching lightly his back. He buried his head in the pillow, ashamed: damn, he had to stop this pointless daydreaming! He was so silly.

"I'm sorry my belly is a bit swollen", she whispered at a certain point, her voice muffled, "It's not always like this when I'm on my period, but this time…".

Robert frowned: he couldn't believe Cora was worried about something like that: he would have liked her no matter what, and to hold a little more of her, even if it was just her _swollen belly_ , as she had called it, was already an amazing experience. "I must add it to the symptoms of menstruations on my dedicated bloc notes", he stated, focusing to keep his voice serious to mock her.

His effort was successful, since Cora, moving a bit in his arms, murmured: "Please, tell me you don't really have this bloc notes…".

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt", he chortled in her hair and gave her two tender, slow kisses, one on her shoulder and the other one just behind her ear; then, after holding her a little closer against his chest, he continued, humming gently against her neck: "Besides, I don't see why you should feel sorry if your belly is imperceptibly swollen four or five days a month, while mine is round basically the whole year".

At those playful words, Cora turned forthwith in his arms to face him. "What are you talking about? You're not "round"! You're the most handsome man I know, robust, with two amazing broad shoulders", she scolded him, slapping his chest lightly to reproach him; Robert just laughed up his sleeve at how seriously she had taken his joke, though he couldn't help but feeling pleased and honored by her praises.

"Two broad shoulders and an even broader belly!", he added, pecking her nose with mischievous grin and clutching her waist and shoulders to keep her face close to his.

"Robert!", she complained, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior, groaning noisily and trying break free from the firm grasp of his arms, "Stop it, I said! You shouldn't criticize yourself like that".

"Well, I have other qualities", he declared shrugging; only subsequently he realized what an obvious double entendre was contained in his words and he blushed vehemently.

But before he could utter an incoherent apology, Cora relieved him from his embarrassing task: she passionately threw her arms around his neck, making him land on his back with a muffled thud and she climbed on top of him, without breaking the embrace. "You surely do", she whispered in his ear, kissing his nose and then his lips, "You surely, surely do".

"You're so beautiful", he muttered, relaxing his tense muscles against the soft mattress, "Even in my stupid, baggy t-shirt".

At those words, her eyes –that had almost closed for the weariness- suddenly lightened up, and she gave him a meaningful look that didn't bode well.

"What?", he asked, opening his blue eyes a little more to give her a clueless look.

"I was thinking", she stated, squinting.

"Yes, that's exactly what I was afraid of".

Cora nuzzled in his neck and laughed against it, tickling his exposed skin. "Don't be such a spoilsport", she said, "You haven't heard what I was thinking about yet".

"And do I want to hear it?", he teased her.

"Stop mocking me and listen!", she reproached him, then she put his head on both his hands, prying on her elbows… a small, sweet weight on his chest, "So, you see, you've given me this Bruce Springsteen shirt…".

"Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Working on a Dream Tour 2009", he corrected her, raising his index finger inquiringly, "Details are important, if not essential. They are what makes the t-shirt so unique and special".

"God, you're such a nerd", she puffed, rolling her eyes, "If someone will stop interrupting me, I may even try to express a concept. What I was trying to say…".

Punctually, he stopped her with a smirk, just to annoy her a bit. "Anyway, I didn't just give you the t-shirt, I also gave you two of my sweaters".

"Robert!", she groaned, nudging him, causing him to laugh out loud.

"Give me a kiss and I'll be as quiet as an angel", he proposed, making puppy eyes at her.

Rolling her eyes once more, she finally gave in. "Alright, dummy, you win", she said, and sealed her lips with his for a few moments before speaking once again, panting a bit to catch her breath: "Even if I don't believe you'll quiet for long…".

"Do you doubt my honor, Cora?", he asked, pretending to be hurt, "Come on, now, you are free to talk".

She beamed at his concession. "I was thinking… You know what would be cool? Now that we'll start to go to concerts, we'll see live artists you like and artists you like. So… what if every time we go to see someone you love I buy a t-shirt to use it as a pyjamas and when we are at a concert of an artist I love, you do the same?".

"So… let me get this straight… you're basically saying that you will sleep with a Nick Cave t-shirt on while I will be forced to wear an Ed Sheeran t-shirt as a pyjamas?".

Cora nodded resolutely. "Something like that".

He frowned. "It's very sweet… and even more embarrassing".

She laughed at his serious expression and crawled on top of him once again, resting her chin and her hands on his chest to look at him. "Well, after all, only I have the right to see you in bed… And I think you'd look pretty sexy with an Ed Sheeran t-shirt on", she smirked, her fingers drawing slow circles on the contour of his muscles.

Maybe, with some other girl, at that point, he would have tried to make a move, but with Cora… well, it was different. Everything was different. Their relationship was gradually and naturally blossoming, and Robert didn't want to ruin it by pushing or hurrying things. It was just perfect the way it was: he just helped her find a comfortable position on his body –her weight surely didn't bother him, quite the opposite, it was so good to feel her pretty forms against the thin fabric of his pyjamas-, and then he started to massage her back to make her relax and fall asleep.

It was perfect. She was perfect.

But, still, a fact remained: he was lying to her; or, at least, he wasn't telling her the whole truth about himself. He moved his head uncomfortably on the pillow, trying to banish those ruminations from his mind: he knew he could trust her… then why was he so afraid to tell her he was a viscount? Was it because he was afraid to lose her? But how could someone like her change her behavior towards him just because of his position and money? She wasn't a hypocrite, she was the most genuine person he'd ever met in his life. And now, she was peacefully resting in his arms; he inhaled the sweet scent of her skin and hair, attempting to relax once again and fall asleep… but that burden wouldn't go away from his heart and mind: now more than ever, curled up in bed with her thin, warm body in his arms, he could realize it… he was being wrong to her… he was being wrong and he wasn't being brave enough to make things right. He just hoped there wasn't a price to pay for his stubbornness.

 **I'm beginning to realize how slow I am when it comes to writing, haha. Anyway, after some weeks of "crisis" –you know, university, stress and everything-, inspiration came back to me once again. The result, as you can see, is this chapter… which is basically just fluff, fluff and fluff. But there'll be angst very soon, so… be prepared and don't hate me! So, what did you think of the chapter? Did you enjoy it? What did you think of Robert's little surprise? Please, DO REVIEW and let me know x**


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